Saudade
by pettyimperfections
Summary: Newly graduated Beth is heading out on a summer road trip to clear her mind, but on her travels she starts hitting some bumps in the road that will send her life intertwining with Daryl Dixon's. [AU: No Zombies]
1. Four and a Half Months

**Saudade /souˈdädə/**

**(n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains".**

Beth sat in the middle of her room, with her legs crossed, in her graduation gown. In her lap, a scrapbook was opened and balanced on her knees. She was flipping through it and every time she turned a page she would trail her fingers over the plastic covering and study the pictures. She'd been doing this mechanically for about half an hour.

Maggie gave the scrapbook to her after the ceremony as a graduation gift. Beth loved it even before she opened it. She knew that Maggie probably spent many, many frustrating hours over it, designing the layout and gluing the photos down; and making sure it was elaborate enough for her little sister. Maggie hated doing crafty things – most of the time she lacked creativity to even draw and stick man - but she did it to make Beth happy.

It did make Beth happy to see the captured memories of her and her friends; all the formals, birthday dinners, first and lasts days of school were wonderful. But Beth's heart strained and an ache was sent throughout her entire body every time she turned to a page filled with photos of family gatherings like Christmas or Thanksgiving. Her father's smiling face looked up at her from the photos and Beth would have to wipe tears away, the longer she looked at him, the more her eyes welled.

There was a knock on the door and Beth sniffed and quickly wiped her nose and eyes with the back of hand. The door opened slowly and she watched as two figures walked carefully into her room. It was her mother, Annette, and Maggie; and they'd probably come to check to see if she was in fact crying. They knew graduation would bring on all kinds of emotions.

"Hey Bethy," Maggie said softly. Beth tried to sniff quietly to hide her tears, but it was not easy to hide her red eyes and nose, and her mother and sister noticed immediately.

"Please tell me those are at least tears of happiness". Annette sat beside Beth on the floor and put her arm securely around Beth's shoulder. Maggie was by Beth's side a few seconds later, running her hand up and down her arm. They tried their best to comfort her.

As Beth her head on her mother's shoulder, Maggie looked in Beth's lap and caught on to what was upsetting the blonde right away. "Oh Bethy, you know I wouldn't have made that damn thing if I knew it was going to upset you."

Beth felt instantly guilty; Maggie worked so hard, she shouldn't be regretting it. "Maggie, I love it, honestly". Beth took a deep breath and composed herself a bit more, "I just miss Daddy, that's all."

Annette pulled Beth in closer to her and sniffed a bit herself, "Seeing you graduate was something he wouldn't have missed. He was watching over you, baby."

Beth fiddled with the chain of her necklace until her cross was untucked from her gown and grasped it. "I know he was, but you know what I mean, Mom."

Beth wanted her father there physically. She wanted to see him in the audience, glowing with pride as she got her diploma. That, however, was impossible. Hershel Greened had died almost four and a half months ago.

Annette stroked Beth's hair, "I don't know what to say, I know as your mother I'm supposed to have all the answers, but all I can think of is that this really sucks."

A laugh bubbled out of Beth's mouth then. It was short and sounded a little hysterical and Beth wondered why she thought that it was funny, but she did. "I agree."

"Could I talk to Beth for a second?" Maggie had stopped rubbing Beth's arm and was sitting there quietly listening to Beth and Annette talk. Maggie could see Annette was trying extremely hard not to cry as well and knew that two people crying was not what they needed.

"Go for it". Annette got up and sent a thankful look at Maggie. Beth and Maggie both heard one last sniff before she exited the room, closing the door behind her with a click.

"Where's Shawn?" Beth rose from her floor and her graduation gown fell around her. Even though she ordered a small she was basically swimming in it. She took it off and tossed it aside, revealing the jeans and blouse she was wearing underneath.

Maggie got up too and walked across the room to lean casually against Beth's dresser. "I saw him talking up some brunette after the ceremony, he's probably out tryin' to swoon her". Maggie knew Beth was trying to change the subject but wasn't going to let her get away with it. She waited a beat and then went on. "Beth, you're not gonna be like this all summer are you?"

Beth hand nervously went up to her curls, or what use to be curls, the Georgian heat had made them go more frizzy and wavy than curly. She started playing with a strand of hair, studying her split ends and avoiding Maggie's gaze.

"Beth?"

"I don't wanna be, but I just..." Beth bit her lip. She'd been like this since the middle of January, Maggie was probably fed up with her.

Maggie had been nothing but understanding, and tried to help Beth as much as she could. When Beth started falling behind in school her sister would take time from her busy college life to Skype her and talk her through stuff. Maggie would use a kind, sympathetic voice and bear with Beth even when she was being difficult. But all Beth wanted her sister to do was yell at her. No one ever yelled at her about her father though.

"Beth, we all miss Daddy, but we all know that he wouldn't want you wasting your last summer before college cryin'". Maggie stared at Beth, who went back to her hair, now taming it into a pony. "I'm worried about you; I don't want this to consume you anymore than it already has."

"Maggie, I..." Beth tried to speak but she was cut off as Maggie's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Where was it your friends where all going again?" Maggie asked, confusing her sister a little.

"Like Darcy and all of them?" Beth didn't exactly understand what Maggie was playing at.

"Yeah."

"Orlando, to stay at her aunt's condo. Why?"

Maggie ignored Beth's question and asked another, "You were invited weren't you? You were telling me about it in December when I was home for Christmas that the girls were planning it."

"Yeah, but... Mom and Daddy didn't even let me go campin' for the weekend with them. It would have been a pretty long shot askin' to go to another state, Mags". Beth sat on her bed and put her arm behind her, balancing her weight on them.

"Why don't you let me and Shawn talk to Mom," Maggie pushed herself from leaning on the dresser and started making her way out of the room without so much as another glance at her little sister.

Beth had a few objections though and was off her bed after Maggie before she could reach the door. "Maggie! I can't go to Orlando! There's so much stuff to do on the farm this summer and the trip is supposed to last two weeks. I can't just leave you guys and go to Florida. It wouldn't be fair. Plus, I've never even been on a plane and the girls left right after the ceremony."

"Beth, what's not fair is letting you mope around and feel like shit all summer. You've been like this too long. You can have fun; you need to have fun."

Beth didn't know if Maggie was right or not. She didn't think she deserved to have fun, but it didn't matter. Beth knew Annette would _never_ let her go, so it really was just a lost cause.

**. . .**

Sometime later, after supper with her mom and Maggie, Beth was sitting on the porch bench reading in the fading sunlight. It was her favorite time of day, when the sun cast a shadow over certain parts of the fields and then other parts would be in a sea of hazy pink from the sky. It was beautiful.

When Shawn came home she'd been in the same spot and had watched as Maggie rushed him into the house and up the stairs with hardly enough time for him to take the key out of the ignition of his truck. It was obviously to plan their con into getting Annette to let her go to Florida and Beth had to admit she did admire the attempt, even if it was in vain.

She heard Maggie and Shawn come down the stairs, talking in hushed voices not ten minutes later and asking Annette if they could speak to her upstairs. Even with the prettiness of the sky and the book, Beth couldn't distract herself from what was going on.

She was astonished when she heard no yelling. The conversation continued for at least three quarters of an hour and not once did a voice raise. If Beth or Shawn or Maggie asked for something outrageous there was normally an abundance of very loud_, Absolutely Nots_, followed by, _Because I Said So_. There was a large lack of both.

Beth considered going up and checking out the situation, but at that moment she heard the groan of the stairs, indicating someone was coming down them. Beth tried to act like she wasn't trying to eavesdrop and flipped her book open, pretending to read.

The screen door opened with a creak and Beth kept her eyes fixed on the page, realizing then that she'd opened the book upside down. Beth could tell by just the sound of the footsteps that it was her mother.

"Hey, baby." Annette's voice sounded tired.

Beth lowered her book and little and watched her mom sit down beside her on the bench. "Hey, Mom."

Annette smiled at her daughter and made herself comfortable. She waited to see if Beth would talk first, knowing they both knew why she came out there, but Beth remained quiet. Her mom let a sigh out and spoke, "So what's this I hear 'bout Orlando?"

"I told Maggie not to ask you, Mom". Beth really wasn't looking forward to the back lash of Maggie's stupid plan. Even if her mom didn't yell at Beth she'd say she was disappointed. She'd decided that her mom remained calm talking to Shawn and Maggie because she thought Beth was the mastermind behind the whole thing and wanted the dues to be paid where they belonged. "I don't need to go to..."

"I think you should go."

"What?" Beth looked at her mom, absolutely flabbergasted. This was so out of the ordinary for Annette it was unbelievable.

Sometimes with older siblings the youngest gets away with more, having already had the ice broken or thinned by the older ones, but it was the opposite with Beth. Her parents sheltered her more than Maggie or Shawn; and she didn't really mind it, she liked their little town and she didn't need to go or be anywhere else.

"I think it'd be good for you. It may be exactly what you need to help you cope. There's been far too much grieving."

"Mom," Beth tilted her head, looked at Annette straining her voice a little, "I don't deserve to go to Florida. I don't wanna stress you out worrying 'bout me in another state."

"Listen kid, you're already stressing me out". Her mom looked at her with a tinge of sadness in her eyes and Beth realized that her hurting was only adding to her mothers. "We live in a technology era and I know for a fact that you can speed text your little butt off. You can keep in touch with me as easy as counting to ten. There's no argument. You're going."

"Mom, I don't want to go."

"Well, that's too bad for you. I already got Maggie to email Darcy and the girls, who are already at her aunt's place, and they are making room for you as we speak," Annette smiled triumphantly at the blonde and crossed her arms. "You can thank me later."

Beth couldn't help but smile at her crazy mother, even though she felt tremendously guilty. She was being forced to go but knew it was because her family loved her so much and to make them feel better she would go. "Thank you, Mom."

"No problem, baby," Annette's scooted in closer to Beth and looked at her book. "So what is it you're reading?"

"Ahh, I don't know, just some dumb book from an old reading list. It's translated Greek or something. It pretty hard," Beth could hear the little crack in her voice that was the tell that she was lying and slumped her shoulders, letting out a breath of defeat for being caught trying to listen in.

"Really? Because it looks like one of my old romance novels upside down," Annette lifted herself off the bench and started heading back inside. Before she left she shot a cheeky grin over her shoulder a Beth. "I'd start packing if I were you. You're leavin' tomorrow."


	2. Most Reliable Thing We Got

"There is no way," Beth stood on the porch the next morning with her arms crossed. Her mother stood beside her as Shawn pulled up in her father's old truck. "Not a chance."

Annette had been up all night with her three kids, all individually on a laptop or phone, trying to find affordable last minute plane tickets to Orlando; and the results had been less than satisfying. Her mom decided that if they wanted Beth out of the house they were going to have to send her on a bus or in a vehicle.

The kids decided vehicle – thinking that Beth would likely get on the wrong bus or get stolen. Beth didn't have a vehicle at the moment, but she had assumed that maybe Maggie was going to lend her car or Shawn would reluctantly give up his truck since they wanted her gone so badly. But they seemed to have other plans that they kept from her over breakfast.

"Why not?" Annette picked up one of the suitcases that was leaning against the side house near the door and walked up to the truck. "It's your own set of wheels and it's getting you to Florida."

"But Mom, that's Daddy's truck," Beth didn't like the idea of driving the truck, it was part of her dad. They wanted Beth out on the road trying to recover from her months of grief and there they were sticking her in Hershel's truck.

"Your father would have loved to see you driving this old thing, it was his baby before you came along. Plus, it's the most reliable thing we got," Annette tossed Beth's bag into the back and waited for her daughter to get her butt in gear.

"I'm pretty sure Dad's love for me and Maggie outweighed a truck too," Shawn opened the door and got out of the pickup. "Beth isn't _that_important."

Maggie came out of the house then and grabbed the other bag on the porch, since Beth was remaining idle. "Shawn, if Daddy could have picked favorites we both know he'd have chosen this brat," Maggie shoved Beth teasingly closer to the stairs, trying to hint to her to move. Beth took the hint and walked over to join them at the truck.

Annette chuckled, "Okay kids...or should I say young adults?" They all made a face at her, telling her she definitely should not. "He loved every single one of you as such as he possibly could. Now…some may have been more than others but..."

Everyone went off in a chorus of laughs at Annette's joke. Beth liked seeing her sibling and mom smile and get along, but it made her a sadder than anything that her father wasn't there to see it too. Her thoughts must have shown on her face because the laughter didn't last long.

Shawn ran his fingers through his hair and gave Annette a look. "Beth should get on the road soon if she wants to get to the border by sundown and find a motel, Mom."

Annette wanted Beth to go to Florida, but it was hard for her to see the blonde leaving, she looked at Beth with shiny eyes and hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go. "Now you call as soon as you stop to fill your tank, try not to accidentally put diesel in it."

Beth hugged her mom back just as tight and sighed, "Mom, first of all, I'm not that dumb, second, I'll call you every morning too and keep you updated."

"I'm kidding. And good, I want to know my baby is safe". Beth tried to break the hug but Annette wouldn't let her.

"Okay," Beth strung out the last syllable and finally wriggled herself out of Annette's death grip.

"Get in the truck before the old lady starts bawling and changes her mind," Maggie threw the bag she was carrying into the back like Annette had and put her hands on her hips. "Get moving."

Beth nodded at Maggie and was just about to get in the pickup before she was taken off guard by her two siblings attacking her with a giant sandwich hug. Beth had hardly any air left in her lungs when they released her and Shawn and Maggie were both laughing like maniacs. Beth tried not to overthink and ruin the moment.

"Okay, _now_ can I leave like you all wanted me to?" Beth smiled at her family and got in the truck, which had been rumbling softly since Shawn pulled up in it. Annette closed the door for her and knocked on the window to get her to roll it down. Beth cranked it down and her mom leaned against the door.

"One last thing before you go," Annette reached through the window and folded a large wad of cash in her daughter's hand. "In case you want to go to Disneyworld or something."

Beth was ready to object, but Annette just winked at her and walked away toward the house, Maggie and Shawn fell in line behind her. With no one left standing around the truck, Beth shifted into drive and pulled away from her home, honking the horn at her waving family on the porch in her rear-view mirror as she made her way down the driveway.

**. . .**

When Beth left, it had been just after eight o'clock, a little after sunrise, it was now quarter to twelve and the sun was high up in the sky, beating down on her. Every summer in Georgia was scorching hot, this summer was no different. In the morning you got a few hours of cooler air that could give you gooseflesh, but when those hours were over so was any hope of ever having a dry scalp again until sunset.

Beth had dressed for the cooler morning, meaning sweats and a long sleeve shirt, and was regretting it deeply. Even with the AC on full blast, Beth was dripping buckets. She had considered several times just pulling over and changing right on the side of the road if she didn't come to a gas station soon. But lucky for her, Beth saw a sign indicating there was a station fifteen kilometers away and she figured she could try to hold on until then.

It was the longest fifteen kilometers of her life and as soon as Beth pulled into the station she was out of the truck and digging through her bags in the cab for her summer clothing. She went in and asked the clerk for the key to the restroom around the back – which was disgusting – and changed quickly. She also pulled her hair up into a pony and off her neck, feeling immediately better.

When Beth came out of the bathroom she asked for forty on a pump and grabbed a chocolate bar. She was smart enough to grab the money Annette gave her and her purse before she left the truck unattended and paid with a fifty-dollar bill from the wad. Beth made a mental note to take the time to count how much money her mom gave her.

While she was filling the tank, Beth leaned against the bed of the truck and dialed her house number to check in with her mom like she promised. Maggie answered, promptly teasing Beth about how many times she probably had to pull over to check a map since she left and then handed the phone off to her mom.

The conversation was short and sweet. Annette told Beth she already missed her, asked her how the drive was going – which Beth replied with good – then she reminded Beth to call her at her next stop and said goodbye.

Beth hung up her cell phone and finished filling up the tank, thinking about how weird it was to have so much freedom. Her mom didn't talk to her on the phone for an hour like Beth thought she would and didn't really know how she felt about it. She'd been fine not leaving the farm and their town, but now that she was out, it was different. She was miles away from her father's grave, going to hang out with all her friends for two weeks and she was completely excited about it for the first time, there was no guilt.

Feeling like nothing was in her way, Beth put the pump back, started the pickup and drove on, blasting the music and the air conditioning.

**. . .**

Two hours later, there was a clanking noise that rang over Beth's Garth Brooks and she turned her music down to listen more closely. As she listened the sound became louder and louder. Beth was no mechanic, but she figured that hearing clanking from the engine was not ideal.

Beth had no idea what to do. There was the option of pulling over and attempting to try to call Shawn and try to have him guide her through roadside repairs, but it'd be a miracle to get service this far out on the highway. So she kept on driving, listening to clanking and furrowing her eyebrows.

Now there were one or two things standing in her way.


	3. Try Not to Get Arrested

Daryl was sitting outside the auto shop with Merle, smoking in the afternoon sun. Merle was telling a vulgar story about this new woman he met down at the bar and Daryl was trying hard to ignore him. Merle's stories stopped impressing Daryl at the age of sixteen, when he actually started taking Daryl out with him and he got a look at the "vixens" his brother bragged about.

They'd spent most of their time outside smoking through a pack and polishing off bottles of beer. All while Merle said crude things, and Daryl snorted gruffly in response. His brother wasn't looking for a specific reaction, just a reaction in general to keep him entertained. It was a slow day. Most of the week had been slow really.

But that all changed when the old Ford pickup pulled hastily up in a cloud of smoke.

The brothers watched in amusement as, what could only be describe as Country Barbie – in her cut off shorts, plaid vest and cowgirl boots – cut the engine and got out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. There was a string of words coming from her mouth that didn't seem to quite belong in the little blonde's vocabulary as she kicked the front tire and looked up at the sky, sarcastically thanking someone it looked like.

"What is that?" Daryl continued to watch her as she whipped out her phone and attempted to make a call, completely oblivious to their presence, even though they were only about six yards away.

Merle let out a howl of laughter. "That, little brother, is a girl."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "I know that, but what is she doing here?"

Even though it said auto shop on the sign, they mostly specialized in motorcycles. The passing bike gangs were what really kept their business alive, the rest of the town (with a few exceptions) avoided the Dixon brothers the best they could, mostly on account of Merle and his jail record. They went to the mechanic two towns over if they could. It was unusual to see someone, especially a girl, pull in willingly.

"Well, judging by the state of that pick up, I'm guessing she needs a mechanic," Merle looked over the girl — who seemed to still be attempting to make a call — hungrily, "We'd best accommodate."

Merle got up, took a drag of his cigarette and then placed it in the plastic ashtray sitting in the middle of the table. Daryl remained sitting, but he followed his brother with worried eyes as he made his way over to the girl. Daryl had seen Merle's attempts at charming girls like her far too often.

"Excuse me," Merle was getting close to the blonde now and was trying to catch her attention.

The girls head turned in Merle's direction and she lowered the phone. She smiled sheepishly and responded to Merle. "Hi, I'm sorry, do you own this place?"

Daryl listened to the draw in her voice and tried to figure where in hell's name Country Barbie came from. But she spoke to nervously and too quickly for him to place it exactly.

"I sure do sweetheart," Merle wiped his greasy hand onto his once white wife beater and held it out to her. "Name's Merle."

The blonde hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, probably considering where it had been, then introduced herself. "Beth."

Merle didn't release her hand, even well after the handshake reached its limit, and pulled Beth towards him a little bit. "I like that name, got a nice ring to it."

Daryl waited to see if she'd react and tell him to back off or brush it off. But she just stood there with wide eyes, looking extremely uncomfortable. Daryl pushed himself out of his chair, knowing he had to step in now. Merle might have said he owned the auto shop, but Daryl was the one that built it from the ground up. He let his brother have co-ownership to help keep him distracted and off the pipe. He wasn't about to lose a customer to his brother's harassing.

"Merle, leave her alone," Daryl strode over to them and watched his brother drop her hand, but it wasn't the end of it.

"Awh Daryl, she knows I was just joking 'round. Don't you Blondie?"

"Beth," she clearly didn't like Merle's attempt to nickname her.

Merle was opening his mouth, to say something stupid no doubt, but Daryl spoke before he could. "What brings you to the shop, Beth?"

"Uhm," Beth raised her eyebrows at him and looked over at the truck, which was still slightly smoking.

"Well, what exactly did you do to it to make this happen?" Daryl hoped she knew even a little bit about what was happening to the vehicle so he could have a place to start from.

"I drove it…" Beth had a blank look in her eyes and blinked.

Daryl stifled a laugh, he had his views on woman drivers and Beth was making them all the more true to him. "What happened while you were driving it, before the smoke."

Beth shrugged told him what happened, "Well, before it started smoking there was a clanking noise coming from the engine…it went on for about an hour, if that helps any."

Beth stared at him as Daryl processed the information she gave him. He went over the pickup and popped the hood. Smoke came pouring out into his face and sent him into a coughing spree.

There was a low whistle from Merle and he laughed. "You sure did a number on this one, Blondie."

She ignored Merle and continued looking at Daryl, who was in the middle of spitting into the dust, with her giant blue eyes, "You'll be able to fix it won't you? I'm supposed to be in Orlando by tomorrow."

"Orlando? You going to Disney World? I love sweet, sweet Disney World. Best place to take a chick if you wanna get laid," Merle hooted and Daryl stared him down, hoping he'd keep his mouth shut for five minutes.

There was no ignoring the shock on Beth's face at Merle's remarks as her cheeks turned bright pink though. Daryl tried to salvage the situation. "I'm not too sure yet. I'll need to take a closer look at the engine. Do you need to call someone?"

"Yes actually, I can't seem to get service out here," Beth glanced down at her phone to check it and shook her head. The place wasn't such a cell phone populated area and it didn't surprise Daryl that her phone wasn't working.

"If you head inside and wait for just a second I can take you to the office and you can make a call from there. I just need to talk to Merle quickly," Daryl pointed at the shop attached to the garage and Beth didn't have to be told twice. As soon as she was in the shop and out of earshot Daryl went in on Merle, "Man what the hell?! Are you deliberately tryin' to lose customers?"

"Y'know I actually thought she found me charmin', Darylina. I think I found me a keeper," Merle set his teeth right over his front lip and smiled while making crude motions with his hips.

"Merle, she is all of seventeen, can you please try not to get yourself arrested," Daryl's hand found his temples and he rubbed them. "Plus, we both know you have 'bout as much of a chance with her as I do becoming governor."

"You don't got to be mean 'bout it. Take a joke little brother. 'Sides I like ladies with a little more... experience," Merle's arm came up and whacked Daryl on the shoulder. "Now let's go give Blondie her phone call."

Daryl stopped his brother from heading toward the shop, "Merle, stay out here. Try to get the truck into the garage or something," he didn't trust his brother not say something inappropriate to Beth and wanted to keep him as far away from as possible for now.

"Now just wait a sec," Merle glared at him, not liking that Daryl was ordering him around. "What makes you think you can tell me what to do?"

"Merle can we not do this right now," Merle was going to send him into an early grave with all his arguments and antics. "The girl wants to make a call."

"And I just said let's give it to her, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is, within the first five seconds of her being here, I can guarantee more than a few disgusting thoughts went through your head."

"Now see, the only way you'd know I was thinking that is if you were thinking the same things about the princess," Merle smirked at Daryl. "We're family after all."

Daryl had basically already said that the girl wasn't too hard on the eyes to Merle, but he would not admit to being on the same level as his brother. "Shut up, Merle."

He turned and started heading to the shop, trying to tune out Merle's laughter, but he couldn't ignore his brother's last comment. "I'll go put the truck in the garage. You try not to get arrested Darylina."


	4. Shit

The shop was so warm that Beth could practically see the heat in the air and she was trying her hardest not to expire. When she first entered the shop she found a little blue bench by the door, where it was a little breezier, and took a seat there while she waited for the brothers to finish talking. They weren't particularly quiet people and even though they probably thought she was out of ear shot, their conversation was carrying. Beth knew they were talking about her.

She'd been absolutely furious with when she got there and had cursed more than she had in her entire life, but as soon as Merle introduced himself she shifted from angry to uncomfortable. His brother – Beth thought Merle called him Daryl – stepped in and tried to defuse the situation, but Merle was a loose cannon. He didn't really try holding back even after Daryl told him to leave her alone.

Beth knew she shouldn't be listening to the conversation, even though they weren't very quiet about it, her ears weren't supposed to be hearing anything. Plus, she wasn't too good at eavesdropping and not getting caught, so she decided to distract herself by looking around.

The shop was really one big rectangle. The first half was clear with just a register sitting on a little island and a poorly hung painting of a bear in a river on the right wall. The back half was separated into what where supposed to be different rooms, but really just looked like a poorly made maze with all dead ends and one long hallway.

On the left hand side wall there was a line of windows that showed the attached garage. Beth got up and peered into one of the windows. From what she could tell it was in pristine condition, with not a thing out of place and all of it well kept. Which didn't mirror the shop at all.

Everything in the place was old and it surprised Beth that nothing was being held together by duct tape. There was a dingy smell in the air and anything that was painted was peeling with a yellowish tinge to it. Beth crinkled her nose a bit when she walked over to the island with the cash register and saw the layer of dust covering it.

Suddenly there was the noise of someone clearing their throat behind her and Beth jumped. Holding her chest, she turned around to see Daryl standing with his arms cross a meter or so away from her. It was amazing how quiet he had moved to get to that position, she didn't even hear the door of the shop open.

"You still need that call?" Daryl asked in a harsher voice than before outside. Beth hoped it was his brother who had put him in a mood and not the fact that she was turning her nose up at his shop.

Beth guiltily bit the inside of her cheek then answered him, "Yeah. If that's okay with you."

Without another word Daryl walked passed her and she guessed she was supposed to follow. They headed down the dimmed hallway and the deeper into the shop the cooler it seemed to be, or maybe it was Daryl's attitude.

Beth couldn't see anything past Daryl's body a followed him blindly. As she followed she noticed part of a tattoo on his right shoulder. She couldn't tell exactly what it was in this light, but got more glimpses of it as he walked and his white beater shifted. From what she could tell it must have been part of a dragon maybe.

Beth really liked tattoos. She enjoyed asking people about them and hearing their stories behind them. They were something so personal and permanent. Beth had considered getting one herself at one point. But when Maggie came home with her small tattoo on her hip, their parents lost it and Beth put the idea into the back of her mind. Going against her parents wasn't in her nature.

Beth was so focused on Daryl's tattoo that when he came to a halt she ran straight into him. Her face got buried right into the shoulder she'd been studying to intently and she got a full whiff of the redneck.

As soon as she collided into him Beth's arms were up and she was pushing her hands against his back trying to make space between them, with an odd squeal in her voice as she did. She could hear a weird sort of, "Hey", come from Daryl.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention!" Beth could feel her face going red as Daryl turned around and looked at her. She'd made quite a spectacle of herself with her awkward spasm of pushing him away.

Daryl didn't say anything however and turned back around. His arm reached over to the left into one of the maze pieces and Beth watched him flick a switch on. A small office with a desk covered in papers was revealed and Daryl walked in.

He circled around the desk and shuffled the papers around, looking for the phone. Beth stood in the doorway and tried to ignore the fact that his scent was lingering in her nostrils and all she could smell was a mixture of sweat, earth and cigarettes. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Not as bad as his brother's stench at least.

Daryl's eyes shot up from the desk when he finally found the land line and he jerked his chin to tell Beth to go over there. Beth crossed the room and sat down in the chair across from him. He sat down himself and pushed the chucky black cord phone — like one you might see in a teacher's room — toward her and reclined back in his chair.

Beth had expected him to leave after he led her to the office and give her some privacy. But that didn't seem to be the case. Beth stared at him as he picked at his nail beds and wondered if he was doing this on purpose, as a sort of payback for her judgment. "Uhm, do you think I could have the room?"

"What exactly do you know about vehicles? Or even what's wrong with your truck?" He didn't even bother looking up from his nails as he spoke. "Don't you think it's useful to have somebody that knows around?"

"You said you didn't know what was even wrong with it yet," Beth bit the inside of her cheek again and tried to keep herself from sounding like a typical teenager. With all the willpower she could muster Beth managed not to roll her eyes and picked up the phone to dial.

The line rang three or four times before anyone picked it up.

"Hello?" Maggie's voice filled Beth's ear.

"Hi Mags, is Mom there?" Beth entwined her fingers with the spiral cord of the phone nervously.

"Beth? Is that you, where are you calling from exactly? Are you lost?"

"So uh long story short – Daddy's truck broke down and I didn't know what to do, so I followed a sign off the highway onto a side road and now I'm in the middle of nowhere in an auto shop," Beth talked faster than she meant to and wondered if Maggie got it all.

There was a pause on the line and Beth thought the call dropped before Maggie spoke again. "Shit."

"Is Mom there?" Beth repeated herself and tried to ignore the feeling in her stomach Maggie's response gave her.

"No, she went into town with Shawn," Maggie paused again. "Beth, you can't tell her."

"Well, why not?" Beth hated how mysterious Maggie was being.

"Listen, as soon as she hung up the phone she had a friggin' melt down. She was talking 'bout how you weren't ready and she should have never let me and Shawn talk her into it."

Beth took a breath and tried to think things through. Annette had been so supportive and practically pushing the truck down the driveway herself. How did her attitude change so drastically?

"If you tell her she's gonna drive down there and come get you herself, Beth."

"What exactly am I supposed to do, Maggie?" Beth didn't even know how soon the truck could be fixed, or if it even could be.

"Pay for it yourself and get the hell to Florida."

That was a terrible plan. Beth had the small amount of money she'd been saving herself and the money her mom gave her; she didn't know how much that even was. Her not telling her mom would also involve lying and probably a lot of it. Beth had lied to her parents before but felt awful going about it and had a tendency of getting caught. But Beth sure as hell didn't want to be dragged home by mommy, she'd just started feeling free.

"Well, okay I can figure it out," Beth untangled her fingers from the cord, "I'm smart and capable."

"Yes you are... Mom's home. I'll tell her you're a few hours away from the border. Call again when you're settled a bit."

Maggie hung up the phone and left Beth alone in office with Daryl staring at her with questioning eyes.


	5. Dimmed Senses

Daryl watched Beth place the phone back onto the receiver and she let out a heavy sigh. He didn't hear the other side of the conversation, but reading the blonde's body language he could tell it didn't exactly go the way she expected. Daddy was probably disappointed in her from messing up the truck or something.

Beth fiddled with the stray pieces of hair that had fallen out of her pony tail as she chewed her bottom lip and looked down into her lap. She didn't say anything for what seemed like a very long time and Daryl had no idea if he was supposed to speak up or not. Or wanted to.

He'd was probably a little more pissed than he should have been at her for prejudging his shop. But her wrinkling her noise got to him. He was good at what he did. If she didn't want his help, she could go elsewhere. Merle had also gotten to him. He didn't want to be nice to this girl if his brother was going to go around thinking he was right about Daryl thinking dirty thoughts about her.

The thing with Merle was that you could say one tiny thing and it would get held against you forever. Merle had a very hard time letting things go. It was almost guaranteed that he was going to try one more time to mention Daryl thinking she was attractive. Escalating anything was going to make it worse.

The term _speak of the devil_ came to Daryl's mind as Merle came strolling into the office and over to the mini fridge in the corner then. He might have been told to stay away, but Merle never listened and Daryl was somewhat thankful for that in this moment to have someone to break the silence. "You got your call, Blondie?"

"Uhm yes, I did," Beth looked up from her lap at Merle, who was bent at the waist digging in the mini fridge.

"You want a beer?" Merle straightened up and turned around to face his brother. He tossed a bottle to him and Daryl caught it. He had two more in his other hand and waved them in the direction of Beth.

"No thank you. I don't drink," Beth was now in the middle of putting her hair back in a proper pony and looked surprised that Merle had even asked her.

"Dang girl, is it like a just say no thing or have you just made too many drunken mistakes." Merle laughed, placed the one bottle in front of Beth and then opened his own bottle on the side of the desk.

Even though it was rhetorical, Beth chose to answer. "Alcohol dims the senses and poisons your body. It makes people spew hateful things from their mouths and is a short term fix for dealing with problems. I'd rather not partake thank you very much."

Daryl, along with his brother, made a face at the teenager's preachy attitude. She sounded like she'd been to Sunday School one too many times or memorized an AA pamphlet. She looked old enough that she could go out and party, hell she said she was going out to Florida and it was summer break. That screamed underage drinking. And yet there she was refusing.

"Well, well, well. I think I'll continue to poison myself. I got something in me I need to kill," without another word Merle turned the bottle up and started chugging his beer.

"I'm sure you do," Beth's face was twisted in a sort of frown as Merle finished his bottle and let out a belch. Her attitude had shift drastically since Merle walked in and she was starting to show her annoyance.

"So what's the plan?" Daryl watched her glance at him for a second but she was too distracted by Merle and looking at him in disgust as he reached over and took the bottle that he'd placed in front of her.

"If you keep making that face it's gonna get stuck like that," Merle laughed and popped the cap off on the desk again.

Beth's face dropped a bit and she took her gaze off Merle finally. "Is there a motel or an inn here somewhere?"

Daryl was thinking about which one to send her to, but Merle seemed to already know and answered before him. "You're in luck Blondie. There's one of few miles down the road from here that will probably have one or two vacancies". Merle smirked at the girl and looked like he was trying his damned hardest not to laugh. Daryl knew why.

Merle wanted Beth to stay at Jim's Motel. It was one of the three motels in town and it was the diviest. It was normally the place where prostitutes took their dates because it was so damn cheap. The sheets on the beds probably got washed once a month, if you were lucky, and if Beth thought the dust in the shop was bad he couldn't wait to see what she thought of Jim's rooms.

Daryl thought about protesting and maybe sending her to a better one, but the offense from her wrinkling her nose was still fresh in his mind and decided against it. Not really caring if he was too old to be spiteful about a teenager's opinion.

"Yeah, Jim's would work out fine for you," Daryl said and saw Merle press his lips together from the corner of his eye. "I just need you to fill out a few things before you go."

Luckily the paper he needed was sitting on top of everything he shuffled and he was able to get it without leaving anytime for Merle to open his big mouth and give anything away. He placed the sheet in front of her and handed her a pen as she read over everything. It was pretty simple stuff she need to fill out (license plate number, name, number to reach you at, emergency contact number etc.) but the girl was looking at it like it was written in German.

"Is there a problem?" Daryl asked her.

Beth looked up at him and said, "Well, I just don't know which contact number or emergency number to put."

"Just put the motel and your house number," he didn't think it was that big of a mystery. He was sure daddy and mommy would come bail her out if she needed anything.

"Do you know the motel number?"

Daryl actually didn't. They sure as shit didn't have a phone book neither. If he wanted to talk to Jim he found him, that's how it worked in this town. He looked at his brother who shrugged. Beth sat there and looked at them waiting for an answer. He could just tell her she could come down there and talk in person. But he had a feeling she would constantly be asking how things with the truck were going or maybe choose to not leave.

"How, 'bout we just get the number from the owner at the motel," Beth finally suggested.

"That's not actually too bad of an idea Blondie. I'll drive you down there," Merle was still sipping on the beer he'd taken from her and was starting to dig around in his pockets for his bike keys.

Daryl let out a sigh. The only thing worse than a drunk Merle hitting on a teenager was a drunk Merle taking a teenager to a motel. And there was also the whole drunk driving thing that he'd been fined for several times. "Merle, why don't you let me take care of it?"

Merle was sucking in air to talk back, but then out of the blue he shut his mouth and stared at his brother with a calculating looking. "Oh, I see Darylina," Merle winked and nodded his head. "You can take care of it."


	6. Call Me Tomorrow

As soon as Beth was away from the prying eyes of the Dixons' she felt a little bit better. But as she pulled her bags from the truck, she could feel the uneasiness coiling in the pit of her stomach. She was really getting herself into a mess of lies, first with her mom and now with the brothers.

She had absolutely no idea what to put for half of that sheet she was supposed to fill out. Especially the emergency contact. She obviously couldn't put her home phone number. Was it too risky to put Maggie's cell? Annette might see a strange number on the bill and try to investigate. Beth had always been the good one, not Maggie. She could put Darcy's aunt's condo. Would they notice a Florida number or the long distance? Maybe a fake number…

Suddenly there was a noise from behind Beth and for the second time that day she found herself whirling around to see Daryl behind her. She was unsure of how long he'd been standing there, or how long she had been. He'd told her he'd meet her back in the shop after she grabbed her bags, but she found herself stuck in thought halfway through pulling out the second suitcase.

"Are you ready to go?" Daryl asked, peering over her shoulder to see if she had anymore bags. Which she didn't.

Beth regrouped herself from the startle he'd given her, again, and answered. "Yup."

"Okay let's get a move on then," Daryl turned toward the exit but then veered slightly towards the huge motorcycle sitting in the garage.

Beth's mind started racing. He wanted _her_ to get on the back of _that_? Her parents always nagged about how motorcycles were death traps and if they ever caught her on one she'd be locked in her room forever (well, if she got caught doing what she was now she'd probably get locked in her room forever anyway. But she didn't want to add everything she wasn't supposed to do to the list.)

"Uhm...we're not going to the motel on that are we?" Beth's question came out in a squeak.

Daryl turned around and looked at her like she had no brain cells. "No."

"Oh..." Beth felt the relief flood through her as she watched him dig in the side bag of the bike, pull out a set of keys and stick them in his pocket.

"Merle's gone to the bar, I'm locking up."

Beth didn't have a reply to that. Of course that man was going to the bar. Even though they basically had one stocked in their mini fridge. Daryl was probably meeting him over there after to have himself a drink and Beth wondered if they always went to the bar every night; and if her truck was ever going to get fixed.

"Well, come on," Daryl was already halfway out the door and Beth was still standing by the truck.

She mumbled an apology and then walked across the shop to the door.

"You okay with walking?" Daryl asked and Beth guessed that if they weren't walking there wasn't another option.

"I like walking," Beth replied, deeply regretting not bringing suitcases with wheels like her mom had suggested.

After Daryl locked up he started leading Beth in the direction of the town. Apparently the brother's shop was on the very outskirts about three miles away from the nearest building. Beth hauled her bags and walked silently beside Daryl.

It was pretty obvious he didn't want to talk to her because he was mad. When she had asked how far away the motel was, he'd answered very gruffly and with as minimal syllables as possible. They had clearly gotten off on the wrong foot when Beth first got there.

Beth hated people being mad at her. Whenever someone started drama at school or her siblings argued she was always Switzerland, she didn't want to make anyone feel like they were being attacked or alone. And she certainly didn't want to be a target of anger.

Beth looked over at Daryl, who was stony face, and contemplated what she should say to clear the air. Maybe if she was just friendlier he'd be less stand offish. "So…have you lived here your whole life?"

Daryl kept his eyes straight, not answering and furrowing his eyebrows.

She tried to keep the conversation going though, keeping it light and simple. "This is my first time out of my home town. Well, I guess beside small trips with the family, but we couldn't be too far away from the farm too long."

Beth looked up at Daryl again trying to see if he was even listening. He seemed to be nodding his head as she talked.

"We have a whole bunch of animals on the farm, did you have any pets growing up? We had a few horses, my mother sometimes did riding lessons, but mostly they were the kids," Beth smiled to herself a bit, recalling how stupid she'd been with those horses. "We had this one horse named Nellie, she was as nervous as they came and Daddy told me to stay away from her.

"But being that I was just a little kid at the time I didn't listen. And not only did I not listen but I thought it'd be a good idea to ride bareback… that horse took off so fast into the woods…dragged me for at least five miles with nothing but the mane to hold onto."

That was a one hundred percent true story. Nervous Nellie had torn though the woods and onto the road leading into town. The only thing good about that was that Hershel had been coming back in from town and saw that horse whip passed the truck. He managed to stop it and gave Beth a look she'd never forget. Until she tried to ride Nellie again two days later that is.

If Daryl had been tuning her out he hadn't been able to do a very good job of it because he actually responded, "That's stupid."

Beth shrugged, knowing it was in fact stupid, "Yea, but I ended up being that only one that was able to ride Nellie after a few dozen tries."

Daryl's side of the conversation went silent again and Beth continued talking, thinking of different stories to tell, to occupy the time they still had left. She wasn't too good at judging time and distance, but from what she could guess they still had about two and a half miles to go.

**. . .**

By the time they had one mile to go Daryl's ear had been talked off and he was in a worse mood than when they'd started walking. He'd responded to one part of an absurd story and apparently that gave her the idea that he wanted to hear more.

He wondered if this was her way of making friends. It might have worked with teenagers or adults who were obsessed with themselves and had something to contribute, but it wasn't working with him.

It seemed like every other word that came out of her mouth was _daddy this_ or _daddy that_, followed by some supposedly cute story about her life. It was getting on his very last nerve.

He regretted not taking the bike a little bit. He had actually fully considered it. It would have saved him from the chattiness, but the idea of having Beth on the back of his bike and holding on to him wasn't a fun one. He wasn't the biggest fan of contact with other people and she had already taken him off guard when she ran into him, so he decided walking was the best option.

The walk really should have only taken twenty minutes or so, but it he could feel them coming up on the half an hour mark. She was probably going a little slower because she was hauling her bags. It looked like she had at least 30 pounds in each. He could have helped her, but he really didn't feel like it. He wasn't a bag boy. Besides she wasn't complaining about carrying the things, she was too busy talking about her dumb family.

This girl didn't seem to have an off switch and tuning her out only partly worked because Daryl was so use to having to be aware of his surroundings. Even if it was something he didn't care about, he was attentive.

Finally, they passed the town sign and Jim's motel started coming into view, Daryl couldn't help but sign in relief. He started walking the pace he had been wanting to go the entire time and hoped Beth would try to keep up. He just wanted to get rid of her for the night.

When they walked into the office, Jim was sitting at the front desk with his feet up and watching the small television on the corner. The last time Daryl was in there was about a year ago, when he went looking for Jim he normally found him at the bar after his daughter took over the shift for the night.

Jim was one of his people. The people the rest of the town considered corrupted. The bar was their place. Made especially for them to hide out in while the rest of the community did their shopping, church going or whatever the prim and proper did during their down time.

"Daryl Dixon, what can I do for you?" Jim swung his feet off the desk and sat properly, he was talking to Daryl but staring at Beth.

"Well I just need the motel number and I'll be out of your hair, but Beth here needs a room."

"Oh, you got a live one to get work done at the shop did you?" Jim stood up and grabbed one of the keys hanging from the wall under the number twelve. "Do you know how long you'll be staying here for, Beth?"

"I'm not too sure yet really, not too long I hope. I'm going to Florida." Beth smiled sweetly at Joe and took the key from him.

The man smiled back at her and then started scrawling down the number of the motel on a scrap piece of paper for Daryl. Daryl moved a little closer, eager to get the paper so that he could finally leave when Jim looked up and said, "Why don't you help the girl with her bags, she's had a stressful day and is probably exhausted. Then when you get back we can go to the bar."

"Oh, no that's really fine," Beth waved the offer as she tried to balance the two suitcases, her purse and the key.

"You ain't gonna break Dixon, he can do some heavy lifting," Jim laughed. Probably knowing Daryl was anxious to leave. It was hilarious to him to make Daryl drag out an uncomfortable situation.

Daryl knew he wasn't going to get out of there unless he helped so before anyone could say anything else, he snatched one of the bags from the blonde and walked out the door with it. Following the once white tiles under the awning to her room.

"Wait up!" Beth was coming out the door and jogging up behind him with the rest of her things. "I really do appreciate this; I was getting a little tired. I can't wait to go to bed."

Daryl grunted and kept walking.

"I hope it's not too hot in the room, in my bedroom the heat just thrives and it's really hard to sleep sometimes. Daddy put one of the old fans in there and on high power it made next to no difference…"

Daryl was finally fed up with the endless chatter about her father and could feel himself on the verge of snapping. He needed a drink and a smoke and to get the hell away from her.

"But then…"

Before she could say the next part of her sentence, which Daryl assumed began with _daddy_, he cut her off. "I really don't give a fuck."

"Excuse me?" the genuine confusion on Beth's face made him even angrier and tipped the scale.

"I said I don't give a fuck," Daryl threw one of his arms up, "I don't care at all about your Daddy who buys you ponies or the life lessons he taught you or whatever the hell it is you keep talking about." He saw the mixture of hurt and rage start appearing on Beth's face, but he kept going despite it. "I don't need to know shit about your life or about your daddy who lends you trucks that you fuck up or anything!_ Just shut up_."

"My dad didn't lend me that truck…" Beth looked like she was actually on the verge of tears.

"Oh he gave it to you, even better. What a stupid mistake."

Beth glared at him and puffed up her chest. She then snatched her bag out of his and started stalking off towards her door. She unlocked it, tossed her bags into the room and turned to Daryl who was standing a few yards away.

"He didn't lend it to me either. Jackass". The blonde's hand was on her hips and if looks could kill Daryl guessed he might be dead right now. "HE'S DEAD!"

With that Beth went into her room and slammed the door behind her. Leaving Daryl standing there alone with is mouth hanging slightly open. He was about to turn around when the door swung open one more time and Beth stuck her head out.

She yelled, "CALL ME TOMORROW TO UPDATE ME ABOUT THE TRUCK!" then slammed the door again.


	7. What's Eating You?

Beth paced by the door after she slammed it shut for the second time, too angry to sit down or even care about the state of the room. How dare he? Yeah, they'd gotten off on the wrong foot, but that gave him no right to snap at her. She was just trying to make it better and ease the tension. Talking about your family and your life was what normal people did after all.

Feeling the need to hit something, Beth clenched her fists. But instead she tried to focus on calming down. That meant breathing properly, which she wasn't doing at the moment. Beth was going from holding her breath to keep herself from screaming, so short huffs of air like she might blow a pig's house down.

_In through the nose, out through the mouth._

She kept telling herself that until she found herself calm enough to perch on the edge of the bed. She started feeling a little ashamed of her behavior. Maybe she overreacted and fought fire with fire. She didn't have to yell back at him. Beth wondered how she could have gotten under his skin so much after only a couple hours of knowing him. He seemed to take whatever she said or did personally.

As she thought about it, she realized that those couple of hours were also the ones she was supposed to count to call her mom. There were more important things than an angry redneck to worry about at the moment now. She needed to keep her lies straight.

The next thing Beth had to do was call Darcy and fill her in a bit on the situation. Beth unlocked her phone and scrolled through it until she found the number for the condo that was sent to her before she left. Following the directions on the night stand, she used the room's phone to dial it up and waited several rings. The phone was just about to go to voicemail when someone answered.

"HELLO?" Beth could hardly hear the person on the other end over the insanely loud music in the backround.

"Hi, Darcy?"

"YEAH?" There was a pause and music was turned down a few notches. "WHO'S THIS?"

"It's Beth."

"OH BETH! Shh everyone its Beth! HEY!" Darcy was still yelling into the phone with even with the music turned down. "ARE YOU SETTLED IN FOR THE NIGHT?"

"Yeah I am, I haven't called my mom yet though," Beth waited to see if Darcy would say anything and when she didn't, asked, "has she called you?"

"NO…" Darcy must have finally realized her voice was still raised and started to talk a little more normally, "...no, if you can believe it." Beth heard Darcy laugh, probably recalling all of her parent's overprotective moments. "She sure is giving you a lot of freedom, hey?"

"You could say that I guess…" Beth mumbled into the phone at the irony.

"Anyway, we're all really excited that you're going to be here tomorrow!" There were a few cheers in the backround to emphasize. "We've missed you a lot!"

Beth sighed then. She missed them too. It was only recently that she had started getting back into things and hauling her ass so that she could graduate. She'd pushed her best friends away immensely after her father's death. Yes, they all loved him too, Hershel had touched everyone in the community somehow, but they didn't go through the same grief that she did.

At school they were given a few pamphlets on the five stages of grief (well, actually Beth had been given several dozen by the guidance counselor):

1\. Denial.

2\. Bargaining.

3\. Anger.

4\. Depression.

5\. Acceptance.

The pamphlets were supposed to neatly outline and explain everything they were feeling, saying it was perfectly normal after a loss. What Beth felt didn't seem perfectly normal though. What she felt was so crushing that doing the simplest tasks were a struggle. And that was _if_ she managed to get out of bed.

Most of the time, it felt like she couldn't breathe – like something was pressing against her chest and forcing the air completely out. Which is why she'd thought, if she couldn't breathe, why should she move? Why should she move a single muscle when she could lay there and imagine a perfect world?

On those days, her friends would come by and try to help, following everything the pamphlets suggested. But she was interested in any or their attempts. They couldn't fix her; and neither could the bottle pills on her night stand they constantly stared at.

It was something she had to fix. But every time she thought she had it figured out, or even managed to trick herself that she was okay again…something like a scrapbook or a clanging noise would try to send her spiraling down again.

From the sigh, Darcy seemed to catch on that Beth was upset, "What's eating you?"

"We may have a small problem with tomorrow…" Beth spoke hesitantly.

She could then hear the music get even quieter and guessed Darcy must have been moving to a different room in the house. "What's wrong?"

"Well…" Beth started to regale Darcy with the story of the truck the same way she did with Maggie. Quickly and panicky. Adding the parts about how she couldn't tell Annette because she'd drag her back home and then waited for Darcy's response.

Her response happened to be the same as Maggie's. "Shit."

"Yeah, I will get out of here eventually. Just not as soon as planned," Beth hoped what she was saying was true.

"Okay, well we'll cover for you for a few days," Darcy paused to think, then said, "My aunt will take some convincing, but she's cool."

Beth felt a small amount of relief from that, "Thank you so much, Darc."

"No problem, Mama Greene won't hear a word from us!"

Beth was about to say goodbye when she realized there was one other person Mama Greene couldn't hear from. There was still the sheet of paper she had to fill out information on, which thanks to Daryl being a jackass, ended up with her in the room on the floor. Which made it a whole hell of a lot easier to improvise. "One more thing. I need to put down a contact number for the mechanic, but I can't put down Mom or Maggie or the condo for obvious reasons."

"Easy, put my cell, it's a Georgia number," Darcy offered. "But you're paying the long distance charges."

Beth added that to her mental list of everything she was going to have to pay, "Deal."

"Great, see you soon!" Darcy was about to hang up when Beth heard a shuffle and she was back saying, "Beth, I'm really glad you're not giving up on this adventure."

The line went dead after that and Beth hung up her own line. Darcy sound different from her usual self during that last sentence. She was the loud, spitfire of the group, but she was quiet when she said it, like she was questioning if she should. She probably had some double meaning to it that Beth was too tired to think about at the moment. But Beth was glad she wasn't giving up on Florida or freedom either.

Even though she was exhausted, there was still one more all she had to make. So once again, Beth dialed, but didn't have to wait multiple rings this time. Right after the first Annette was picking up, she'd probably been sitting there staring at it since she got home. "Hi, baby."

Beth tried to keep the conversation as short as possible so she wouldn't give anything away. She answered yes to being at the border (lie) and yes to checking in with the girls (true). She told Annette she missed her (true), that she was gassing up regularly (kinda true, but not really) and that everything was fine (lie). Then she yawned to let Annette know she just wanted to go to bed and told her she loved her.

After she hung up, Beth really did get ready for bed. But it was just reaching six o'clock and impossible for her to close her eyes and fall asleep. So she ended up looking up at the ceiling and continuously praying that everything would work out as planned.


	8. Keep Your Shit Together

When Beth got out of bed, before she even looked in a mirror, she knew she looked like crap. Between six at night and six in the morning she'd managed to get about two hours of sleep. Those two hours were a collection of her waking up from a nightmare — like Annette discovering her whereabouts — and then drifting restlessly into a new one.

She probably could have slipped into a dreamless state sooner or later because of how sleep deprived she was, but Beth was so use to getting up early on the farm that she found it impossible to even try. So she flung the covers off herself at six-o-one and made her way to the tiny bathroom.

The gas station bathroom Beth had changed in yesterday looked like spa compared to the one revealed when she flicked on the light. The grout between the tiles covering the floor and the shower was pure black from the dirt accumulated over the years. There was a ring around the tub that looked like dried, faded blood, like someone had bathed in it...or murdered someone. Beth gagged a bit at that thought, but dismissed it because she was clearly just letting her imagination get the best of her. It was just a ring of dirt, nothing else.

Even so, Beth thought she'd skip a shower for the time being. All she needed to do was wash her face for now — wake herself up a bit with the cold water. Which was a good idea, because when she looked in the water stained mirror finally, she looked even crappier than she had guessed.

Her eyes were blood shot to the point that the whites of her eyes didn't even exist anymore. Underneath it looked like she might have been punch in the face her under eye circles were so dark. Then on top of everything, Beth swore she saw the start of a stress pimple in between her eyebrows.

"Great," Beth mumbled irritably to herself as she splashed water on her face. She was disappointed in herself for falling apart after one night. She refused to give up, but if every night was like the last, she knew she wouldn't last long. Staring at her exhausted reflection and shaking her head Beth said to herself, "You gotta keep your shit together."

After her little pep talk, Beth had the urge to check every corner of the bed, something she hadn't done last night, in fear of bed bugs. While she did that, she asked herself how the Dixons' could send her to this place.

Beth really did know the answer thought. For Merle, it was some big joke, but for Daryl it was a form of revenge. Daryl had sent her to where Beth thought she might contract an STD from the toilet seat because she didn't like the dust in his shop, it made her wonder what he'd do for yelling at him and calling him jackass.

During her sleepless hours Beth had the opportunity to mull over her fight with the Dixon brothers and decided she was ashamed of her behaviour. She was brought up being told that everyone has a story and that unless you knew it you could keep your opinion to yourself— everyone could use some compassion now and then. Beth found herself doing the exact opposite and overreacting. Daryl didn't knower story, but she didn't know his either and now had gone and made enemies with him.

Beth did feel a little sorry for herself too, but she was trying to do better, recover. Luckily the self-pity was drown out by the sound of her stomach suddenly and Beth realized she hadn't eaten anything since the morning before (her chocolate bar was still sitting in the cab of the truck, probably melted). The lack of food was obviously contributing to her exhaustion and she could really go for something to eat.

Beth dug through her suitcase and found her high school hoodie and a pair of jeans to pull on. Then she put her hair into a rather messy (and greasy) pony. Grabbing her purse and key, Beth made an exit from the room and made her way to the office to talk to Jim.

The person sitting at the desk wasn't Jim though, it was a girl she didn't know, obviously. The girl looked up from the magazine she was reading and stared at Beth, who cleared her throat and said, "Do you work here?"

"I'm sitting behind the desk aren't I?" The girl gave Beth a look like she was dense. Beth gotten that look more in this town than she had in her entire life.

"Right...sorry...uhm."

"My name is Tara; can I help you?"

For a second Beth couldn't even remember why she went to the main office to begin with, but her stomach grumbled to remind her, "I was just wondering if there was a diner or something close by?"

Tara moved her wrist in a circular motion, "Turn around." Beth did as she was told and saw that right across the street was a sign that had _Dayna's_ _Diner_and painted on the windows it said _Open 24/7_. "Anything else?"

"No... thank you very much," Beth made her way out of the front office and waved back at Tara as she did.

Beth crossed the road easily, being that there weren't many cars about on an early Sunday morning and those that were around were parked in front of the diner. She made her way to the front entrance and when she opened the door and stepped inside, it felt like home almost.

Back home they had a diner almost exactly like the one Beth was standing in. There were booths lining the windowed walls and an eating bar with the old men that had probably gone to the diner since it opened (along with the veteran waitresses). Even the color scheme was the same. And just like back home there was a sign that said _Seat Yourself,_so Beth did just that.

There were a few booths open and places at the bar. Normally Beth would have plunked herself down at the eating bar and made conversation with the people around her, but after last night she wasn't in the mood. Fumbling with her words with Tara was stellar example of how awkward she felt now. Instead Beth chose the third booth in from the door and sat herself down quietly.

The difference between that booth and every other one in the diner was that the blinds were closed. Beth tugged on the string a bit, but they wouldn't budge. She didn't mind all that much however, it was six thirty in the morning and nothing too exciting was going to be going on outside.

"Coffee?" a waitress made a sudden appearance as Beth lowered her hand from the blind string.

"Yes, please," Beth hands shook from the idea of caffeine.

The waitress poured the coffee and chatted, "Those blinds have been stuck like that for as long as I can remember."

"Why don't you have them replaced?" Beth asked, then took a long sip from her mug.

"Gloomy right? Some people like it though," the waitress shrugged, "would you like a different seat?"

"I'm fine for now thanks," Beth smiled at her and mimicked her shrug.

"Well, let me know when you're ready to order," the waitress placed the menu on the table and left, glancing at the clock as she did.

They were probably expecting a morning rush soon and Beth was taking up a booth that could fit four. She'd move if she had to though. But Beth was planning on staying at the diner for quite some time, partly because she liked how it felt like home, but mostly in fear of the room phone ringing…or not.

Beth knew she had told Daryl to call her about the truck and that she should be glued to the phone waiting for Jim to transfer his call, but her telling him to did not mean he was going to. She was a five foot five blonde with a temper, he was a much taller, not to mention stronger, redneck with an even worse temper.

"Are you ready, Hun?" the waitress was back with her notepad out, ready to take Beth's order.

Beth hadn't even looked over the menu, but she knew what she wanted, "I'll have pancakes, with lots of whip cream, please."

"Alrighty, I'll have those up for you in about fifteen minutes," the waitress glanced at the clock for the second time then. "Are you sure you don't want to move?

Beth nodded.

The waitress walked away again, and there was a very audible sound of exasperation as she did. She went back behind the counter to place the order and Beth noticed the other servers going up to her and whispering. It was strange to Beth that they were so concerned with her. In fact, it came to Beth's attention that quite a few people in the diner were stealing glances at her.

Beth didn't think she was disrupting anything. She was minding her own business and sipping her coffee. Like everyone else should have been. Maybe it was her large lack of hygiene at the moment. Could people smell her from across the room? Maybe it was the fact that she was sitting alone. Whatever it was, Beth couldn't particularly put her finger on it.

The stares continued until Beth got her meal. For a third time the waitress asked if she would like to move, saying she'd probably be comfier over at one of the other booths, all while looking at the clock. It was five minutes to seven.

"_No thank you_," Beth spoke more assertively, if it wasn't obviously the first time or the second it should have been the third.

The waitress didn't bother arguing or making another suggestion, she just walked away. But from a few booths over, Beth could hear the two speak to each other.

The first man said, "I wonder how he's gonna take it."

"It'll be show, that's for sure," the second man added before his words started to get drown out by a very loud, very obnoxious rumble coming from the distance. He raised his voice so that his companion (and Beth) could hear him, "Seven-fifty-eight. Like clockwork."

The rumble got louder and louder until Beth, or anyone in the diner, could hear their own thoughts. Beth realized it was a motorcycle just as the engine was cut.

She didn't know who the rider was, hell Beth didn't even know how many people road motorcycles in this town, but she could guess it was one of the Dixons'. It did matter which one it was to her though. If it was Merle she could ignore him, but if it was Daryl…Beth wasn't ready to speak to Daryl face to face. She wasn't even ready to speak to him the phone!

She would have been able to tell right away, if the damn blinds weren't shut. Beth slightly cursed herself for not taking the opportunity to move, then reached over to split two of the blinds with her fingers so that she could see.

Squinting and stretching her neck, Beth looked out the gap at the rider. At first she couldn't tell, the stupid paint on the windows was right in her way and all she could see was an outline of a figure through a green part of an _N_. However, Beth was able to strain her back even to finally get a good look.

Beth recognized the bike first. It was the one she had been terrified of the night before. Then she recognized the rider as Daryl Dixon.

Her first instinct was to get up and run out of the diner. But there was only the one door at the front and she'd crash right into him if she got up and left then. The next idea that came to her mind was to make herself small until he was turned away from her and she could slip out quietly.

Beth slipped some cash on the table for her food, so she could make a clean get away, then backed herself up to the very corner of the booth, where the wall met the seat. Slowly Beth slid herself down until she was eye level with the table then and waited.

Seconds later Daryl entered the diner. He was greeted by the waitress that had been serving Beth. She was standing in front of him, blocking him for going to any of the booths. He didn't seem interested in the attempted conversation (no surprise there) and walked right past her. Making a bee line for the booth Beth was in.

About halfway there, he noticed Beth cowering in the corner and she finally was starting to catch on to everyone's edginess about her presence. Daryl turned his head in confusion to the waitress and everyone around him. Then he kept on walking to the booth and sat right down across from Beth. Besides her shoulders tensing up, she was frozen.

Daryl looked from her, to the untouched pancakes and the money, then back to her, "What the hell are you doing?"


	9. What?

When _Daryl_had woken up from his alcohol induced sleep that morning, the first thing he knew was that he was hungover. His brain was pounding against his skull and it was a sensation he that was usually saved for the holidays with his brother. He had no intention of getting drunk the night before.

When he got to the bar with Jim, everything had already been in full swing. The town's band of misfits were surrounding a table, howling and clinking glasses at a joke Merle had just told. Lori, the bar owner, had seen them come in before anyone else and already had their usual drinks up before they were halfway to the counter.

While Jim joined the rest of the group as soon as he got his, but Daryl hung back a little longer. He wasn't quite ready to be antagonized by Merle. He had given his brother hell about trying to lose a customer, and he'd been the one that had actually gone and done it.

"You look like you could use something a little stronger than beer," Lori had said, as she began to wipe down the counter, or at least what she could reach of it. She was pregnant with her second kid; and damn was she one interesting mom.

Lori wasn't the type of bar tender that thought she had to be a shrink to every damn person, she answered other people's problems with liquor. Which made it hard to believe she was not only a mother, but the sheriff's wife as well.

Stupid pigs.

Not that Daryl himself had a problem with the local PD. But with the amount of times they'd taken Merle into custody, he didn't have the best relationship with them either. Rick, Lori's husband, was tightly wound. He had a clear set of ethics in his head, and where Merle was concerned, he was highly involved.

He didn't like Daryl's brother one bit. It probably pissed him off even more that Lori was one of the few people in town that not only hung around the Dixons, but seemed to genuinely like their company. She didn't care if they probably scared away other customers, she let them drink and – before sperm met egg – smoke in her bar and was perfectly content with it.

"I might," Daryl had been joking, but Lori pulled out five shot glasses and filled them with booze, telling him he was a big enough boy to handle all of them. To take the edge off, he swung back ninety perfect of the shots. Then he drank his beer and let his brother order a few more rounds. He decided it would help him forget what an ass he'd been.

Daryl didn't expect to dwell on it very long. If Beth had any sense, he thought she'd probably have a tow truck ready to take her vehicle to a different shop by the early morning. Then he'd never have to see or think of her again.

It came as a surprise to him when he drove past the shop to see the truck still there that morning. But it was an even bigger surprise to him to see her not only in the diner, but in his booth when he got there.

The first thing he noticed was the blonde hair, then he saw her globe-like blue eyes popping out of her head at his presence and realized she was literally _hiding_from him. It threw him off completely. It was strange to Daryl that the girl that had the balls to scream at him the night before, was now recoiling in the corner of the booth.

Daryl considered just leaving and saving himself the pain of whatever was going to come with the encounter with Beth, but it would only delay it a little longer. Plus, he could smell the freshly brewed coffee he was craving to cure his hangover. So he simply sat down on the right side of the booth (Beth was in his usual side) and watched her shoulder muscles tighten.

"What the hell are you doing?" her pale skinned face turned a deep shade of red and the blonde's eyes got even bigger. Daryl could practically see the wheels turning in her head, contemplating her next move.

Beth slid into a proper sitting position and attempted to respond to his question, "I- I…uhm," mostly she just stuttered.

Last night Beth had left him speechless at his idiocy, but it looked like it was her turn then. Finally, she stopped trying to make words and just stared at him. Daryl stared back, not knowing what else to do. The awkward air between them could probably be felt throughout the entire diner. He watched her continue to process everything and her eyes darted away from him. Beth started getting up and moving then, grabbing her purse to make a getaway.

"I- I'm sorry, I'll…go…" she managed to fumble a few words out.

Daryl would have liked that, but he knew he owed her some kind of apology. Admitting he was wrong or saying sorry wasn't something he was used to, he didn't really know what he was supposed to say. The first thing that came to his mind was about something she'd asked him yesterday.

"I had a dog growing up."

The blonde paused. "What?"

With a sigh he said it one more time. "I had a dog growing up."

Beth blinked a few times, trying to register what he was saying. Daryl watched as her eyes narrowed; she was probably wondering if he was full of shit. But then, believe it or not, a giant grin appeared on her face. Beth collapsed back into the booth and started laughing. And it was just some girly giggle, it was a _real_laugh. The kind that was contagious.

Daryl didn't actually laugh, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "He was a mangy thing. I didn't have him for too long."

He'd found the dog on the side of the road when he as around ten, the age where most kids thought that if brought a stray home and begged their parents to keep it, they could. Daryl didn't have asked, his dad didn't even notice the thing. Until it bit Will that was. That was the last thing the dog ever did. Daryl kept that part out of the story of course. He didn't know if he should skirt around talking about death, Beth seemed a little manic depressive.

"What was his name?" Beth asked, and started cutting into her pancakes. He wondered how it was that she forgave so easily and bounced back without blinking.

The awkward air between them had almost melted away for her. And if Daryl was going to be honest, he only felt the normal awkwardness that came along with most of his social interactions.

"His name was Dog," Daryl could feel the corners of his mouth twitch once more, "I wasn't a very imaginative kid." He had actually wanted to name the dog Skip, but Merle, who was actually home for once, called it a _queer name_.

The two continued to talk while Beth finished her pancakes. It wasn't anything too personal or too deep. It was just small talk. Beth even threw in a comment about the weather. Daryl did notice her skirt around some of the conversation a bit though. A few times he saw her open her mouth, but stop herself before she said anything. He didn't know what the deal as until she didn't catch herself in time and ended up cutting her the word _daddy_ in the middle.

Daryl probably could have kicked himself. Beth cared so much about whatever feelings she thought he had towards her daddy issues after what he'd done that she still didn't feel confident mentioning her father. It was unbelievable. Even though she'd accepted his mediocre kind-of-an-apology, Daryl knew it wasn't enough.

With a sigh, Daryl stared at Beth very seriously, "Look. You can say it. Jesus...you were right 'bout me being a jackass. I ran my mouth when I shouldn't have."

"Okay," Beth spoke cautiously, then blushed and nodded slightly. "I'm sorry I called you that, it was rude."

Although Daryl would have liked to point out that he was the rude one, he didn't. She looked like she needed him to take the apology. So he did. After, Beth got up to leave, giving him a small wave as she did. Just before she got to the door, Daryl remembered one more thing.

"HEY!" He called after her and Beth turned back toward him, "I'll call you this afternoon about the truck."

"Thank you," Beth smiled at him one more time before she left and it was after that Daryl noticed that the entire diner was staring at him; and probably had been since he sat down with her.

With a shrug, Daryl spoke loud enough for every gawking person to hear, "What?"


	10. One Foot in Front of the Other

As Beth walked back across the street to the motel, she couldn't help but feel a little bit of relief after her talk with Daryl Dixon; she could take comfort in the fact that he was, at least, a little bit more human than she'd thought before. She also felt a little more confident that he was going to get the job done on the truck without doing anything to spite her. He was a puzzle piece in the plan that may actually fit without her forcing it into place.

"You embarrassed yourself a bit, but you kinda kept you shit together," Beth mumbled to herself as she unlocked her motel room door. Now all she had to do was call her mom.

Beth strode across the room to where she put her cellphone on the night stand and picked it up. She couldn't remember if she had service in the motel room, but it was worth a try. Besides, she couldn't exactly call from the room phone, she was already supposed to be on the road. However, to Beth's dismay, when she clicked the center button, the screen remained blank.

She'd forgotten to charge it overnight.

_No worries_, Beth thought. It didn't take long for a phone to charge anyway. She could wait it out. There was no way her mom would spiral out of control if her call was ten minutes later than it was supposed to be. So she got her charger out, plugged her phone in, and sat on the bed to wait.

As Beth waited, her sitting position turned into a slump; and her slump turned in to her lying on top of the bed sheet. Which turned into her blinking slowly. Then, finally, it turned into her closing her eyes completely just as the screen came back to life.

**. . . **

It was only two minutes. Beth swore she had only been asleep for two minutes before her eyes fluttered open. However, the facts seemed to disagree with her when she found herself sprawled out in the middle of the bed with drool trickling down her cheek.

Beth shot up into a sitting position as soon as she came fully to. _Dammit_. How long had she been asleep for? She quickly reached for her phone – almost tearing it from the charging chord – and pressed the center button again. This time it lit up, but she felt all blood drain from her face.

It was 2:00 pm, and she had no service.

"Oh no…no, no, no!" Beth sprang from the bed and ran around the room, desperately looking for bars. But there wasn't even one.

_DAMMIT!_

Beth pulled her shoes on, grabbed her key and ran immediately to the front desk. As she tore the door open she could see that Tara was still there, reading a new magazine. Beth came to a halt and breathlessly spoke. "Tara…I -".

Tara looked up from her magazine. "Yes?"

Beth could only get one word out. "Service."

"You gotta be a little more specific here. You want car service, cell service?" Tara pause and looked Beth up and down. "…Sexual service?"

"Cell…" Beth breathed out, too frantic to even try to comprehend what the last comment was supposed to mean. "I need cell service."

"Ah, well the other two I could have pointed you in the right direction. But there ain't a lot of cell service around here…'cept for maybe on the ridge…"

"What ridge?"

"It's on the south side of town…but I wouldn't go up there unless…."

Beth didn't get to hear the rest of what Tara had to say though. Before she could finish her sentence the blonde was tearing out the door again. Toward what she believed was the south part of town, and the location of the ridge.

**. . .**

It didn't take long for Beth to realize why Tara recommended not going up the ridge. It was steep and, once again, she was very unprepared. Her jeans and hoodie were sticking to her skin from how badly she was sweating; and with every step she took, rocks and sand filled her stupid ballet flats.

Every so often, Beth would stop, stick her phone up, and check for service. But every time she did, the empty little bars taunted her. How was she going to explain this one? It was almost 3:00 pm and her mom hadn't heard a single word from her. Annette had already probably called her and the condo a million times. Or worse. She may have called the police. Was Beth technically a missing person already? She hadn't been allowed to watch crime shows, she didn't know how many hours she had to be MIA to be legally missing.

Beth stopped, forgetting about her phone and feeling her stomach turn as she thought about police involvement. It made her sweat even more…it made her want to throw up…or maybe curl up and cry. She was shaking – practically vibrating – from how nervous the idea made her.

Then Beth realized…she actually was vibrating…or rather her phone was.

Beth lifted up her phone as notifications started popping up on her screen:

_4 missed calls from Mom._

_3 text messages from Mom._

_2 missed calls from Darcy._

_1 missed call from Maggie._

_8 text messages from Maggie._

_3 voicemails._

Beth's eyes went wide. She swallowed hard, trying to decide what to do first. She could call her mom right away…but Maggie was with her…Maggie knew more. She quickly typed in her passcode and clicked on her sister's message. They were less than helpful though. It was just her name….in different variations…eight time over.

Her fingers moved quickly as Beth typed out a message to Maggie:

_What does she know? How mad is she?_

Beth hit send and watched as her message delivered. She held her breath as the little bubble indicating her sister was responding appeared. But before Maggie could finish her typing, a fifth call from Annette came through.

Beth chose to try to take the nonchalant route and pressed her phone to her ear. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi? Hi is all you have to say to me?!"

"Mom…I didn't have service…I'm sorry."

"I thought you were dead!" Beth's mom groaned.

Beth swallowed hard again. "Well…I'm not…and I'm almost at the condo!"

"I was going to call the police," Annette said. Beth breathed in. "I didn't though. You're lucky your sister talked me down."

"Mom I – I thought you were okay with this. I know I said I'd call you every day…but it's hard." Beth knew she was guilt tripping her mother – and she hated it – but she knew things could only get worse if Annette was this upset.

Her mother sighed on the other end and Beth heard a slight sniffle. "Okay…okay. You're right. How about you call me when you miss me...which should still be every day."

"…Mom…"

"Okay…every other day."

Beth hoped to be out of this hell hole within the next two days and she knew that was the best offer she was going to get. "Okay, every other day. I gotta get on the road again now though. I love you!"

"I love you too, Sweetheart!"

Immediately after hanging up, Beth let out a huge, humid breath of relief. At least she had adverted another crisis. Lying was becoming a little bit easier for her. Which wasn't a fact she liked, but it helped her keep one foot in front of the other; and while she was making her way back down the ridge that's exactly what she needed


	11. On the Rocks

The universe was working against her.

That was all Beth could chalk it up to as she picked her stupid, dust covered ass off the ground. She'd almost made it – she'd even passed the steepest parts of the ridge flawlessly. But those last few, boulderless, rootless meters were what did her in. She didn't know exactly what had happened; all she did know was that, one moment she was upright, and the next she was rolling...and rolling…and rolling…and rolling.

When she had stopped rolling, she laid there for a few minutes, looking at the sky. Not only did she have the wind knocked right out of her, but she was also a little shocked, a little embarrassed, and a whole hell of a lot annoyed.

Really? _Really?_ She had to fall down while her clothing was already stuck to her like glue from how much she was sweating. Now she wasn't just a greasy, sweaty mess. Nope, now she was a greasy, sweaty mess with sand integrating its way in to every nook and cranny it possibly could.

She looked like a pig that just finished rolling around in a sty. But that really couldn't stop her from getting back into town and waiting for Daryl Dixon to call her. He said he'd said he'd give her a call later – and even though she clearly wasn't the best with timing, it was later.

So, she walked. But she walked like a girl on a mission. She didn't move for anyone on the sidewalk and she didn't smile at anyone. Beth just kept her eyes trained forward and ignored the strange looks she from everyone she passed.

Beth did however stop moving when she heard a loud noise as she passed an old building with dirty windows. As she turned around to see what exactly the noise was, Beth couldn't help but roll her eyes this time. It was Merle Dixon, with a beer in one hand, and the other hand banging rapidly on the window.

Merle started yelling as soon as he got her attention, Beth could barely tell what he was saying through the glass. But it sounded something along the lines of: "Hey, Blondie."

It really was in Beth's best interest to just walk away. However, before she could turn around and make it three steps, Merle was out the door after her; and his hollering made her shoulders rigid.

"Blondie! Did you not hear me? Man you look like hell." Merle called after Beth.

She considered continuing to walk; she really did. But there was something about these stupid Dixon Brothers that got on all her last nerves. She turned back around. "I heard you. I chose to ignore you...and my name is Beth."

Merle just laughed and took a sip of his beer (which he apparently found impossible to part with, even in public). "Well ain't somebody in a feisty mood."

"Oh...let me tell you..." Beth started, but before she could finish, her mind finally caught up to her. She was in public, fighting with a drunk man; and drawing all sorts of unwanted attention.

Considering the size of town she was from, Beth knew she already stuck out like a sore thumb the moment she sat down in the diner. Now there she was, covered in muck, at odds with a Dixon: and the brothers didn't seem the most popular of men there. So, even though she was the younger one, Beth knew she had to be the adult.

Rolling her eyes one last time, Beth hissed at Merle. "Go inside."

"Now listen...my baby brother doesn't tell me what to do, and you sure as hell don't either." Merle took another sip of beer and looked like he was readying himself for a real argument.

However, Beth's patience snapped before he could open his mouth again.

"Oh...get your ass inside..." Beth walked quickly over to Merle and basically started pushing him inside. "Now."

Merle continued to try to make a scene, and push back. He hollered a few things that wouldn't ever be repeated by any civil person and even tried to grab onto the door frame for a few seconds. But Beth caught him off guard and got him back inside before he knew it.

As soon as they were inside, Beth peeled her hands off the equally sweaty redneck and stood there for about a millisecond of his howling before she cut him off. "Do you ever shut up or is your mouth constantly pouring out beer coated garbage?"

For a minute, Merle stared at her. He was completely silent, with his lips pressed firmly in a frown. While she stood there heaving her chest angrily, waiting for a rebuttal. Which eventually did come when he stopped being surprised by her outburst. "Who pissed in your cornflakes, Blondie?"

"Oh is that the best you got?" Beth had a few choice things she was ready to say with him if it came to it.

"Well, excuse me, Princess." Merle laughed. "You need to burn off some steam? Cause I got some better ideas of how to do that than yellin' at me."

Beth could feel her nose shrivel. "Now you listen to me. I've spent the good part of the afternoon in the heat, covered in sweat and dust. I have sand in places where sand shouldn't be. The last thing I'd _ever_ want on this plant is _that_. Especially from _you_,"

"_That_, hey?" Merle cackled and gave Beth a smirk.

For a moment, Beth didn't know what her body wanted to do. Her mind went from hitting Merle, to wanting to cry, to screaming profanity again. However, before she could do any of the, a voice interrupted their quarrel.

"Hey, Honey, I think you might need this."

Beth whipped herself around – first registering in her mind that they were, of course in a bar. This was a fact that made her very pale. Beth didn't like bars one bit. But, it wasn't just that it was a bar, but the fact that it looked freakishly similar to the one back home; and that bar, she hated with a passion.

However, Beth didn't stay pale for very long. She realized then that, the person who had interrupted them was a pretty brunette woman standing behind the counter; and on the counter, the woman had set down a large glass of what appeared to be ice and water. Then all Beth could think about was her dry mouth and how much she really did need and want that glass of water.

Beth immediately abandoned her argument with Merle and began striding across the room, all while thanking the woman. When she got to the counter, without a second thought, Beth picked up the glass and took a long, long slip; and then another after that. It was only half way through the glass, Beth's tastes buds finally caught up to her, and a bitter…disgusting taste bombarded her. Beth instantly began gagging.

"What…is…that?!" Beth managed to get out through her coughs.

The brunette woman shrugged. "Vodka, on the rocks."


	12. So Screwed

Daryl hung up the phone one last time as the final ring ended and it went to the automated voicemail. He'd been calling the direct line to Beth's motel room for about the last five minutes, but there had been no answer each time he redialed. In hindsight it was probably for the best. He didn't exactly have a great update for her.

Like he said he would, Daryl had done straight to the shop after he finished nursing his hangover and had been working on that stupid truck ever since. At first, he thought it would be a simple fix, but within the first ten minutes of working, he became far less confident. Her entire engine had seized; and he had confirmed that when he pulled out the dipstick and not a speck of oil could be found on it.

With that information, Daryl knew what he had to do, however, all the "simple" fixes he knew weren't didn't do a damn thing for him. Which meant he had to pull apart the entire goddamn engine. So there he was, standing in the middle of the shop, covered in grease and surrounded by engine parts; but he had nothing to show for it.

He figured the engine was down for the count. But maybe Merle would take a look at it and see he if he could see anything different. Aside from picking the cheapest booze, Merle was pretty damn good at fixing broken things. Things broken with motor vehicles, that is.

Daryl wasn't going to wait for his brother to show up though, it was his self-proclaimed day off_, _after all. But he knew where he was likely to find him. The one phone number Daryl _did _know was Lorrie's. He'd seen it flash across the tiny phone screen too many times, warning him about his drunken brother, to not know it. He dialed the number and waited. The moment Lorrie picked it up, he could hear his brother howling in the backround.

"Hello?" Lorrie spoke over his brother's laughter.

"Hey, Lorrie, it's Daryl."

"Oh hi, what do you need?" She asked.

"Do you think I could speak to the idiot for a second?"

Without another word, Lorrie handed the phone off to Merle, who was laughing, even as he spoke. "Whatta you want, Darylina?"

Daryl rubbed his temples. "I need you to come to the shop and take a look at the truck."

"Why?"

"'Cause the engine is probably fucked." Daryl spat out. Merle burst out into an even louder laugh that, for some reason, made the hairs on the back of Daryl's neck stand up.

It sounded like a _I know something you don't know_ laugh; and even though there wasn't a lot Merle knew that Daryl didn't...it was always something frightening.

Merle spoke again, but this time, it was to Daryl at all. "Blondie, you're gonna wanna finish the rest of that."

"MER –" Daryl yelled into the phone, but the line went dead before he could even finish his sentence.

**. . .**

_Fuck. _That was one of the only words Daryl could think as he tore into town on his motorcycle. What the hell was Beth doing at Lorrie's and what the hell was she drinking? And how did she get tangled up with Merle?

God, he was like a virus.

If you were left alone with Merle for too long, he'd take every opportunity to drown you in liquor, cigarettes…and other things. Sometimes, Daryl though it was a game for his brother, to see how fast he could corrupt someone; and Beth, with her doe eyes and seeming need to prove something, to either herself or someone, she was like the ultimate undertaking for him.

For a while, Daryl let his brother mess up his own life, and whosever he could dig his talons into. Merle left a path of destruction and chaos wherever they went and Daryl followed. But, unlike some, Daryl had come to his senses; and now he'd taken responsibility for Merle. He wasn't about to be left accountable for a drunken minor being thrown into his path by accident.

As he came closer to the bar, Daryl eased up on the gas. He knew Merle had guessed he was coming and he could still hear the motorcycle from a mile away, but he didn't need to draw any more attention to the bar. It wasn't unusual for people to see his bike outside of Lorrie's, but if he tore in there with guns a blazing on his brother, someone was likely to call Rick. He wanted to give his brother shit, but Merle didn't need another goddamn thing on his record; and Lorrie sure as hell didn't need a reason for Rick to finally have the bar shut down.

Daryl quickly, but trying to remain nonchalant, parked his bike and marched into the bar. He guessed he was going to have to pull Beth off the bar like a drunk college girl while his brother whined and Lorrie offered him a beer. The scene he walked into however, was not that.

First, there was his brother. Merle, for what was maybe only the fourth of fifth time in his life, was standing completely still. His eyes were wide with what was seemingly panic, and he looked like he wanted to run for the hills. Then, there was Lorrie. She had a bottle of vodka in her hand, looking at a half empty glass on the counter, questioning on whether or not she should fill it. Then, finally, there was Beth. Her eyes were just as wide and panicky as Merle's. The only difference was she sitting there crying very silent tears.

"What the hell did you do?" Daryl asked, he heard his voice falter a little. He didn't exactly know what do with crying girls either.

"I- I just told her what you told me and she started cryin'!" Merle stuttered out. "She hasn't said a damn thing. She just sat down and started cryin'!"

Daryl looked to Lorrie, hoping she knew what to do. She was after all a girl, and a mother. But Lorrie just shook her head and finally filled the glass. "Common, Merle."

"Where are we goin'?" Merle looked at her with relief.

"Anywhere but here."

For once, Merle didn't have to be told twice and the two quickly exited the bar through the back door. Leaving Daryl alone with Beth; whose watery eyes were trailing from him, to the glass on the counter then to the cellphone in her hand.

Daryl stood just as still as his brother. Not too sure what Lorrie expected he could do that she couldn't. She was a nice girl, but she probably didn't trust him enough to say shit. At least that's what he thought until she opened her mouth slightly. She spoke so quietly that, at first he didn't hear what she said.

"What?" He asked.

Beth spoke a little louder. "I'm so screwed."


	13. A Little Pathetic

Beth didn't have a lot of time to be mad, but for a few moments, she was livid. Her face went red and her vision blurred, she also considered throwing the drink in Merle's stupid, laughing face. She even felt a little sick for a moment. Then the phone rang and the brunette woman excused herself from the chaos that was likely to unfold. Beth's anger continued to boil.

How could she have been so stupid? They were in a bar and she didn't for a second think there was alcohol in the glass? She could try blame that on her dazed confusion from the sun and her tumble. But it was her own naivety that made her maybe there were still a few pure things left in the world; like a caring pregnant woman offering you a glass of water.

Through Beth blurred vision she could make out the woman handing Merle the phone. She heard him say Daryl's name - or rather she thought he called him Darylina. Their conversation was a short one before Merle let out a slightly devious laugh, and looked at her. "Blondie, you're gonna wanna finish the rest of that." Then Merle hung up the phone.

"Wha- what do you mean?!" Beth had asked as she found her voice. He'd known something that he thought was going to win him whatever fight he thought they were in.  
Merle smiled. "Your truck is fucked, Princess. Good luck."

Beth guessed Merle wanted to rile her up. But the reaction she gave him was definitely not that. She simply sat on the bar stool nearest to her, and began bawling.

For the passed two days, she'd been doing everything thing in her power to get the truck fixed and get her ass to Florida. And now, it was all for nothing? All the lying and all the fighting and all planning, it was useless; and it wasn't fair.

Then there was her father's poor truck. It was one of the last things she had of him. Was it really done for? After everything else she'd done, she guessed she didn't deserve to have even a piece of him.

Now there she was with Daryl, unable to stop her stupid crying, and suddenly feeling a little woozy as Merle and the brunette woman fled the bar. She knew Daryl probably wasn't sure what to say or to do. He probably wanted to follow Merle and that woman. But he still just stood there and watched her stupid ass cry.

Beth wasn't sure if it was because of the booze, or because he was there, or because she - for whatever reason - trusted him. But he was going to find out sooner or later when her mother came tearing into town. "I'm so screwed."

"What?" He asked.

"I'm so screwed." She spoke up.

Daryl gave her a confused look and she couldn't help herself.

"My mom thinks I'm in Florida and has no faith that I can take care of myself. My friends and sister are lying for me for nothing. And my head it fuzzy; and I don't know if I like it or hate it." Beth blurted out all at once. "Oh, and when my mom finds out I've been lying to her I'll never be allowed out of her sight, let alone my house ever again."

Beth could hear Daryl take in a deep breath of air. She looked over to him and saw he was walking toward her until he was right in front her stool. Without saying anything he picked up the glass of vodka and handed to her. "The way I dealt with crazy parents was drinking. Not the best solution. But it's something."

"I don't wanna drink." Beth placed the glass back where it belonged and paused. "My Daddy drank."

Daryl shrugged. "The world isn't a perfect place." He wasn't wrong; that was for damn sure. "But...I don't think you're gonna have to be locked in a house forever."

"What?" Beth looked up and watched him pick up the glass one more time, this time drinking from it himself.

"If you want, I can order one and put a new engine in. But it costs more than what the damn things worth."

"How...how long would it take?" Beth sniffed and wiped her nose.

"'Bout two weeks to get here. Maybe a little longer."

_Dammit._ That was more time than she had to spare. But she didn't honestly care at that point. She cared more about not getting caught, and proving to herself and anyone else that doubted her that she was not the same helpless little girl she was before.

…Trips always got extended.

"Okay." Beth replied to Daryl. "Do it."

"You know how much an engine costs though right?" Daryl raised his brow at her.

Beth shook her head. She had the cash from her mom and what little she had saved. But would it be enough for an engine and whatever payment she'd owe the Dixons?

"It's over two grand with shipping."

Beth's eyes welled again and she felt like she'd been punched in the gut. No, she definitely didn't have enough money for that. Which meant she was back where she began. Screwed.

Daryl took one look at Beth's tears and took a long sip of the vodka. He spoke calmly but Beth could tell he was a little freaked out. "What now?"

"I – I …" She tried not to let her voice shake, but she couldn't help herself; and before she could get the rest of her sentence out, Beth burst into tears once more. But, this time, they were loud, agonising tears.

**. . . **

Daryl had been trying to react as calmly as possible to Beth's tears. But as soon as she began wailing, he could no longer keep his cool. At that point, he would of much rather a wild drunken teenager than whatever the booze was doing to her. He knew how to deal with wild from his brother. But sadness was never something he could get a hang of.

"WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR?!" Daryl didn't exactly mean to yell, but that's how it came out.

"I – I'm sorry…" Beth snivelled in between her tears. "I – I CAN'T HELP IT! I DON'T HAVE THE MONEY."

_God_. He'd seen this girl go through almost every emotion in the book and he'd barely known her a whole day. He'd seen her what he could only imagine was her highest point, and he prayed that this was her lowest.

How could one person be so fucked up?

Well, actually he knew a few reasons why; he'd witnessed a few of the reasons up close and personal. Dealing with a loss of a parent – or the loss of someone you love – it could nearly drive a person crazy. He himself had dragged himself through the gutter more than once to try to save someone from themselves, with almost little to no success. But even with that deterring him, he still felt such an immense need to want to help her.

Daryl sighed. "A friend of mine works at that diner across from the motel. If you give me the down payment, I'll order the part and you can pay me before you leave."

Daryl watched as Beth stifled her tears. She opened her mouth to speak to him, but all that came out was a little echo of a wail and then a small _hic_. She tried again one more time, but all that came out was: _hic, hic, hic._

He tried not to laugh. It was a little pathetic, but pretty damn funny. "I'm going to take that as a yes?"

Beth covered her mouth with both hands as she continued to hiccup before she gave him a quick nod; and although he couldn't a lot of her face, he could see her eyes sparkled and her cheeks lift with a smile.


	14. With s Smile

If there was one thing Beth would give to Daryl, it was that he worked fast. In fact, as soon as he'd finished that damn vodka he was up and out the door getting shit done. He fled the bar without looking back, and for a little while she'd thought he'd really just abandoned her. He said whatever he needed to say to get out and that was it. However, soon enough, he came back, looking - for whatever reason - slightly embarrassed, and with a neatly folded uniform.

Beth was a little amazed really. After everything else that had happened, she didn't fully understand how it could be so simple for him. "How could they give me a job without even meeting me?"

Daryl had just answers her question with another. "Ever own anyone a favor?" Beth knew she sure as hell had, and she sure as hell would after that, so she just nodded. "Well, my...friend...she's the manager and she owes me a favor. So there you go." Daryl dropped the uniform in her lap. "You start tomorrow morning. Seven."

Now there she was, the next morning, shimming herself into the diner uniform and struggling with the zipper. She's taken no mind to the uniform before, but now, as she did a couple takes in the bathroom mirror, she was less than impressed. The skirt was too short and it was an awful shade of baby blue - with, of course a frilly white apron sewed on. But it would have to do. She was in no position to complain after all.

Beth checked the clock on the night stand. It was just after six. Daryl had said seven, but, of course, Beth hadn't slept a wink and already had an early start on the day. She didn't think there'd be any harm in showing up a little earlier. Besides, ambition was always supposed to leave a good impression.

_Ok, you can do this. _Beth nodded at her refection in the mirror, trying to reassure herself, then quickly slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse. She really had no high expectations for what the day was going to hold, she'd be lucky if she went the day without dropping something and breaking it. But, she was thankful for the opportunity at least; and surprisingly thankful for Daryl Dixon. She wasn't quite sure if he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, or if it was in favor of his own agenda to get rid of her. But she'd like to think that, compared to their first meeting a few days ago, she was growing on him – at least just a little.

"Hey…Beth?"

Beth turned as she heard her named called. She saw Tara sticking her head out of the office door, squinting at her in the morning sun. She started walking towards the office. "Yeah?"

"You've been here a few nights, and Jim just wanted me to let you know he'd like some payment. Y'know, cold hard cash."

"Oh! Right." Beth could have kicked herself. She'd been going over numbers in her head all night, playing guessing games of her wage, tips and all the other crap she needed to do to get herself to Florida, but not once had she factored in the cost of the motel. "Yeah, of course. How much do I owe so far?"

"One hundred even."

"Okay." Beth pulled out the wad of cash her mom had given her and started pulling out five twenties. When she counted it last night there was just under five hundred dollars. But she could see now, it wasn't going to last very long. "Here you go."

"Woah, I was kidding about it being actual cold hard cash," Tara reached for the twenties and laughed. "What are you, a drug dealer?"

Beth went a little bit red and shook her head. Although, it could be an option, there was probably better money if drug dealing after all. "No, just a run of the mill waitress…barely."

"Right…have fun with that." And with those last words Tara disappeared back into the office, leaving Beth to carry about her business.

After her first day, she _really_ was going to have to start properly crunching number; even if math gave her a headache and it really was a class she skimmed through. Some of the things they taught could actually, unfortunately, be apply to the real world. Or at least this version of it.

Beth stashed her cash back away in her purse and rushed across the street. Again when she walked into the diner, she got that homey feeling. However, it didn't last long, because soon someone was right in her face talking at her.

The person in front of her was dressed just the same in the horrible baby blue uniform. She was older, but maybe about a little younger than Annette, and had short grey hair. Her features were soft and her eyes seemed caring. However, the words spilling from her mouth were filled with authority.

Beth's eyes travelled down to her name tag, it said: Carol and underneath her name, clear as day, it said, Manager. She was Daryl's…_friend_?

"I'm sorry…I didn't quite catch that…" Beth could feel her face going red, she really wasn't as ditzy as she seemed.

The woman, Carol, sighed and repeated herself. "I said, are you the new girl, or do you just admire our fashion choices?"

"Oh no…I mean yes…I mean…I am the new girl!" Beth scrambled to find a clear thought.

"You're early." Carol said, it what was a less than enthusiastic voice.

_Oh, yeah, great first impression, Beth. _Ambition apparently didn't leave a great taste in someone's mouth during the tail end of the morning rush. "S-sorry."

Carol turned away and started walking, Beth guess she was supposed to follow her. "You're a stutterer. Daryl didn't tell me you were a stutterer."

"I-I…" _Dammit_. Beth took a deep breath; she didn't mean to sound so overwhelmed. "I don't usual stutter, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, just don't do it in front of a customer." Carol said and Beth took a mental note to, again, keep her shit together. "Okay. Let's start this crash course."

The ins and outs of the diner were pretty simple:

\- Beth didn't cook, she poured coffee, with a smile.

\- She took plates to the tables, with a smile.

\- If she dropped a plate, there was no way in hell she was to yell _"OPA"_. People knew she wasn't Greek and didn't give two shits as long as they eventually got their bacon in a timely matter. With a smile.

\- Payday was on Fridays and it was $9.00/hour. So she was going have to survive on tips. Which meant service with a smile.

"Get it? Got it? Good?" Carol asked as she turned, finishing her spiel.

Beth nodded. It seemed simple enough to her. "Yes, I'm excited to get started."

Carol laughed dryly. "Don't be, sweetie. You're on your feet all day, dealing with people who don't care and feel entitled. The only real breaks you get are your smoke breaks…do you smoke?" Beth shook her head. Carol laughed again. "Never mind, then."

"I don't mind." Beth smiled. "I'll take as many hours as I can get."

"Careful what you wish for. Lots of these ladies – including me – have kids …which I'm guessing you don't. Kids get sick and kids require attention even when there's bills to pay and you're a single mom. You'll be getting a lot questions about swapping or picking up shifts."

"I don't mind." Beth said again.

Carol smiled at Beth, the first warm, motherly smile she'd seen in a while, and handed her a coffee pot. Two people walked in the door just as Beth grabbed hold of the handle and Carol gave her a nod to go ahead as they sat down. Immediately, Beth walked over and asked the two of them if they'd like coffee, with a smile.


	15. Are You Sure You Don't Want Coffee?

Daryl paused outside the diner, considering his next move. He'd walked all the way there, but he wasn't sure if he should go in. No, it was Beth's first day, he shouldn't even think about going in. But he was curious - about a number of different things; including how the blonde was holding up.

He'd really talked her up to Carol, to say the least. Not that he really knew the girl, but he wasn't' sure how she's fair. Beth seemed pretty determined, but was she stable enough?

Oh god. What is she'd already cried. Or worse, yelled at a customer. She'd been there over four hours. It took her less than two to snap at him. Not that he hadn't goaded her, or had any better or a temper.

But this was Carol; this was her livelihood. Her daughter's livelihood. The diner was her life, aside from Sophia and there he'd gone invading her space by asking for a job for Beth, cashing in a favor. And it wasn't as if she actually owed him a favor. She practically demanded she owed him. That woman had been through enough, she didn't need to get shit from the owner over something he asked for. He shouldn't have even asked.

What was it about Beth's teary blue eyes that made him?

"You sweet on the girl that stole your spot?" Carol had teased him the day before. Daryl cringed thinking about it.

"I barely know the girl!" Daryl had responded. "I'm just helping her out. I gotta get paid somehow."

Carol had just laughed at him and said, "I know, Daryl. You've gotta thing for helping girls in bad situations." She'd acted like it was becoming a complex. This is why is solitude and alienation was so much better. No one wanted to know your damn business.

_Shit_. He couldn't stall forever. Daryl let out a heavy breath and walked into the diner. Things seemed pretty calm. Actually…he didn't even see Beth in sight. Just the familiar faces of the other waitresses, not really doing a lot of anything. He spotted Carol over by the bar and she waved him over. Daryl started walking over but he didn't make it ten steps.

"_Excuuuse me!_" Out of nowhere, a blue of blonde and blue came whirling passed him, almost bowling him over.

Beth.

"Hey." Daryl called at her, but before he knew it she was gone.

He heard Carol laugh. "This is what happens when people sit themselves."

Daryl finished walking over to her and leaned against the counter. "Whatta mean?"

"Everyone's pooling in the section I assigned her. Poor thing hasn't stopped moving since she got here." Carol laughed again.

"You gotta be kidding me?" Beth was probably almost at her wits end. Although it didn't seem like she said or done anything, yet.

"Nope." Carol's gaze drifted over to the other waitresses. "Some of the other ladies are getting a bit testy though. A wide eyed, frantic new girl is only funny so for long until you realize she'd getting more tips than you."

Daryl hoped that meant he was going to pull her from her section for a bit. He was sure Beth needed some time to come up for air; and she'd be less than popular if the girls watched her pocket the change for any much longer. Not that he cared about her popularity.

He watched with Carol for a few moments. She was bouncing back a forth to every table in arm's reach with a very white smile planted firmly on her face. She'd nod, scrawl something down quickly, then off she'd go again. Passing right by everyone as she headed toward the kitchen to put in orders.

Then suddenly, Beth was up beside him – not that she noticed him – talking wildly. "Hey Carol, I need another pot of coffee for table six…and a few more forks for table seven"

Carol raised her eyebrow. "Beth the tables don't have numbers."

"Oh..." Beth mumbled.

If he thought she had the slightest clue what was happening, Daryl imagined Beth's face would be turning red right about then. She looked pretty undone. Her hair was flying wilding away from her ponytail, which was slipping from its original point; and there was, of course, food stains all over her uniform already. He'd be surprised if she hadn't been dipping into the pot of coffee herself.

"Why don't you work behind the counter for a bit, honey," Carol suggested. "I'll one of the other girls to take over."

It was hard not to notice the absolute relief that flooded Beth's eye's in that moment, but the blonde tried to speak calmly. "Sure, no problem."

Beth quickly slipped behind the counter and Carol slipped away to talk to some of the other girls. Daryl wondered if he should sit down or leave. He'd seen what he needed to see. She was holding up. Not to mention he hadn't looked him in the eye or acknowledged him once since he got there.

Until she did.

"Coffee?"

"What?" Daryl looked at her, she was empty handed.

Beth shrugged. "I'm supposed to offer customers coffee. Do you want coffee?

"No. I just came in to talk to Carol."

"Okay good…I have no idea how the big industrial coffee maker works. I've just been stealing full pots when I see them." Beth said, flatly.

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle to himself a bit. He could just imagine how well that was boating over. Although, she may have been moving too fast for anyone to notice. "You're okay though?"

"Yes." Beth nodded. "Thank you." Were they supposed to be speaking formally now? Was it supposed to be awkward because he got her a job…or saw her cry? What exactly had he done now?

He didn't expect anything from her, except for payment. Not that he'd explained that to her, but her thought it had been implied. It was just a thing.

"I ordered your engine." Daryl said, quickly trying to think of anything that may excite her.

He watched her smile, but it was the same one he saw her use for customers. She repeated herself. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Daryl pushed. God, her formality was creepy.

"Are you sure you don't want coffee?"


	16. Since You Started

For three days, Beth kept herself afloat. Everyday she'd go to the diner and didn't leave until she felt as though her feet were about to bleed or Carol told her to scram; usually Beth was too stubborn to stop and it was the latter. She was constantly trying to be there, picking up stiffs or splitting shifts and praying she wasn't stepping on too many toes. She didn't think anyone would mind her running across the street for a midnight shift though - even if she'd only had two hours to herself.

Every night, when she had time, she'd count her tips and budget; and every other night she was running, carefully, up to the ridge to call her mother, to lie about all the wonderful adventures she wasn't really having.

It was on the fourth day that Beth could feel herself sinking, however. It seemed like every day now, Tara was stopping her at the office, telling her Jim wanted payment. It was understandable, it was a motel after all. But, the price of each night seemed to be going up every time she turned around. That morning, it seemed to be the price of a three-star hotel, at least.

Beth didn't say anything though. She didn't know why she kept her mouth shut, or why she watched her savings float carelessly away from her finger tips, but she did. It wasn't as though she actually owed anyone more than what she was due. Except for maybe Daryl.

So far, for at least part one shift per day, he'd been at the diner. If she was running around wildly, he'd chat with Carol; who she noticed made him blush like a school boy. If she was behind the bar, he'd sit there and try to talk to her. She'd try to make conversation back, but she found it hard to even focus on anything but working.

God, what was she supposed to do? She owed Daryl the most money out of anyone, and there is was slipping out of her grasp. Beth reminded herself she just had to work harder, longer; and she need to remember to call her mom that night.

Beth trotted across the street and made her way around the back of the build. She was instructed that she was supposed to come and go from there. As she rounded the side of the diner, she waved at a few of the ladies smoking on the picnic outside the back doors. She couldn't help but envy them being able to lean against the building, with their legs stretched across the bench.

"Morning." Beth mumbled at them. They nodded at her and continued smoking and blowing toxic clouds towards her direction. She hoped it was their idea of hazing as she hacked from the inhalation.

She obviously wasn't there to make friends and, it was true she had no intention of ever going back to the town. However, Beth didn't exactly want anyone hating her. She was always taught that, if she was going to leave a lasting impression, it might as well be a good one. So, as she finished coughing, she smiled and quickly scooted into the back door.

"You look like shit."

"Excuse me?" Beth turned to see Annabelle, one of the woman she worked with.

"You look like shit." She repeated. "Do you ever sleep?"

"Not recently." Beth tucked a piece of fly away hairs behind her ear, like it would make a difference in her appearance.

Annabelle laughed. "My toddler doesn't sleep either. Which means I don't. The only difference is he doesn't cry over Bob the Builder."

"Oh, well I guess we have something in common." Beth teased. She never really that her lack of sleep would be the catalyst to making nice with the other waitresses. "Bob's the worst."

"You got kids?"

Beth shook her head. "No I just used to babysit a lot."

"Good, keep it that way." Annabelle jerked her head toward the front, "We better get out there." Beth smiled and immediately started walking along with her to the front.

For a good some of the day, every time she passed Annabelle, she'd smile; and if she had a moment, Beth would ask about her kid. It was amazing how much people liked to talk about themselves and how far it really got you. It also made her understand bit more why these women would be peeved about her taking some of their shifts and tips. While Beth was trying to keep herself afloat, many of them were trying to keep an entire family from sinking.

It was something Carol had told her before, but now she knew some of the kids names. Now she knew daycare or babysitters wasn't always an option. She guessed, aside from there being no farming, that was one of the bigger differences from her home town. While Beth was trying to keep herself afloat, many of them were trying to keep an entire family from sinking. So, when it came down to it, even though she needed the tips too, later that day, she stayed behind the counter and let one of the other ladies take two of three tables.

When Annabelle asked Beth why she gave up the tables, she simply said, "I don't have kids to worry about."

"You really are a nice girl, Beth." Annabelle commended her. "But I'm pretty sure Jackie doesn't have any kids."

"Oh."

Annabelle laughed at her. "You'll learn."

Beth was about to respond, when the front door opened and Daryl came walking in. He spotted her, but he didn't come walking toward the counter that time. No, first he had to talk to Carol.

Of course.

She could hear Carol's laugh from across the diner. She tried her best, but Beth could tell she was making a face. She didn't exactly know why she was though.

"Why the sour face?" Annabelle asked, trailing her eyes to where Beth's were fixed.

Beth couldn't help herself. She'd been dying to know. "What's their deal?"

"Who? Carol and Daryl?"

"Yeah. Are they, like, a thing?" Beth cringe at the words coming out of her mouth. She sounded like a kid.

"Why do you care?" Annabelle raised an eyebrow at Beth.

"I don't." Beth replied, a little too quickly. "He'd just in here all the time talking to her. I was just wondering.

"Hmm, well I guess you couldn't possibly know all the town's gossip, even if most of it revolves around the Dixon's. But no, they're not together if that's what you're asking. He's up for grabs."

"Who would want to grab Daryl?" Beth half joked.

"You're the one asking if he's single." Annabelle said. "I also can't help but notice, his frequency at the diner has increased since you started here, so."

Beth felt her face flush immediately. She'd always assumed he was there for Carol. Why would he be there for her? Her face went a little more red. _Oh, you're such an idiot._ He was probably just checking in on his investment.

"Excuse me." Beth looked at the clock, her first shift was coming to an end. "I have to go make a call.


	17. Rational

For whatever reason, Beth chose to break the news to her mother that night. No, not the actual news…not the news that would ruin everything she was working toward. But he idea of extending the trip. To say the least though, Annette had not taken the idea of Beth staying in Florida any longer very well.

But, their family was known to have an argumentative streak. Every single one of them was a bull headed as could be – some of them, a but more than others though. It took just as long as she had guess for Beth to dispute her, very fake case before her mother said she'd think about it, but to Beth that was all she needed for the time being. Not to mention, with a little phone call to Maggie, Annette would certainly cave a whole lot easier the next time she called. It still made her skin crawl, but Beth was definitely getting better at lying and – in that instance – manipulating. Not that it was something she'd ever brag about. In fact, it was something that she knew she'd have to atone for one day.

However, in the meantime, she knew she couldn't think about it for too long. She had to think about work and paying Daryl and paying Jim. Although, the idea of staying another night in the motel, and being charged triple the amount it was worth, was another thing that made her skin crawl. She could be an adult and call Jim out. But, she also could argue with herself that she could be an adult and tell her mother the damn truth.

In her tangled web of a life she'd weaved, nothing was as simple as it seemed anymore.

She needed to clear her head for just a while. At least that's what she thought as she climbed her way off the ridge. Maybe if she got a moments peace, with nothing breathing down her neck, she could be a rational human being for at least a moment.

On the farm, when she needed space, she took off on her horse into the woods. There were plenty of trails for her to take, and Nellie had come to know them so well that it came to a point where she could get lost in her mind without getting lost in the woods. But there wasn't a faithful animal friend laying around anywhere close. There was, however, a wooded area not too far from the ridge that she could see.

_Oh, yes, a strange pile of trees that you know nothing about, that's perfectly rational, well done. _Beth rolled her eyes at herself. But still, she could help but feel the urge to want to explore it. Everything she was doing was supposed to be an adventure after all. Even if she was the most unprepared girl scout to ever trapes into the woods.

**. . .**

Daryl sat down on the porch with a huff, then took a swig from his bottle of beer. It was definitely not his first of the evening, and it sure as hell wouldn't be his last. Why was it that everyone seemed to want to drive him to drink? Did they really want to see the "sweet" Dixon to an early grave? If that was the case, it wasn't a very well thought out plan. They were the ones that would have to deal with Merle.

"_Stopping in again, are we?" _Every single day Daryl had gone to the diner, those where the first words Carol had said to him. Followed by something along the lines of a question concerning Beth. Then she'd laugh at his confusion.

God, she was such a pain in the ass. He didn't understand what was so funny. But, that woman loved nothing more than to endlessly tease Daryl. She enjoyed it almost as much as Merle it. Although, she'd made it very clear how she felt about Merle's treating of Daryl. He guessed it was fair to mention, her teasing was much more nurturing. You could tell she was a mother. Whereas Merle didn't have a maternal bone in his body.

Carol was his friend – and again, one of the only people in town that didn't despise him – but she was added fuel to his fire. He had to get away from everyone before he got seriously pissed. Which is why, he went straight home, instead of to the garage or to Lorrie's. No one was going to bug him there. Mostly because, no one was quite too sure of where it was.

It was too far into the woods for anyone to really care. Merle was the only one that had been there, and every time he had been coming down from a bender. He probably didn't even know what the house looked like; and house was a nice way of putting it.

It was more of a cabin, or a shack. Aside from the spare bedroom Merle never used, there was a basic bathroom, a very small kitchen and barely a living room. He paid for electricity and for water, and that was pretty much it. It was simplistic and – for the most part – peaceful. He could get away from most of his problems there.

"Ow! Shit!"

Or…maybe not. It wasn't that close, but the voice was loud and familiar enough that it made Daryl jerk his head up. It was, of course, Beth. But, the real question was, what was she doing out there?

Daryl wasn't sure was he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to let the blonde wander around until she possibly found her way out and back to town? Or have call her name and have her show up outside his place? Neither of options were too appealing, actually. But the second option was the right one.

He hoped that girl had ears like a hawk, because he wasn't going to repeat himself. Daryl sighed. "Over here."

After a few minutes, he thought maybe he spooked her and she turned the other direction. But soon enough, there she was – in her damn uniform – with her knees covered in mud and a couple little twigs sticking out of her hair. He watched as he eye's shifted back and forth nervously. He guessed she was just as confused as he was about her being there.

"Are you lost?" Daryl asked.

Beth simply nodded her head and reached up to her hair, beginning to fiddle with it. Though, it wasn't long until he fingers grasped onto a twig and she pulled it out with a very sheepish look. "Uhm…do you maybe have a bathroom I could use?"

Daryl was pretty reluctant to let her inside, but this was just as pathetic as seeing the blonde covered in dust and accidently drinking vodka. How was it that one person could be so accident prone? Well, maybe he didn't know if he actually wanted an answer to that question.

"Yeah, come on." Daryl downed the rest of his beer and got up. Beth followed him straight to the door. When he opened it, however, she definitely got more than what she was expecting from the place.

Daryl watched as Beth's eye went very wide. Almost every inch of the place was cover in something – whether it be newspapers from town, or clothing, or something of another nature. Daryl guessed what when he thought of simplistic, he thought of bachelor simplistic. Not the _lived in _chaos he guessed Beth saw before her eyes.

"It's…a little…" Daryl started, before Beth cut him off.

"Have you ever thought of hiring a live in housekeeper?"


	18. Damn

"You did WHAT?" Merle slammed his palms down onto Daryl's desk, disrupting every single paper he'd been filing through.

Daryl swallowed and continued to try to shuffle through the papers. "You heard me."

He'd thought, when he told Merle about Beth, it'd be easier to say something casually. His brother had sat down across from Daryl and started talking away, and when he gave Daryl the few moments he got every ten minutes to say something back, he told Merle the blonde was moving in with him; then, almost immediately changed the subject. Merle, surprisingly, caught on to it and had given Daryl a look. In his mind, Daryl had imagined he'd either receive an undeserved (or rather, misinterpreted) slap on the back or an over sexualized comment from the idiot. However, it was then that Merle decided to try to be the big brother.

"This, this is how you _actually_ get arrested."

Ok, maybe there was no easy to tell his brother about the Beth coming to live with him. He was just helping her out in the only way he knew how. But it wasn't like they were together, in any way, shape or form. That would be out of the question.

In all honesty, it was safe to say that Daryl had never been in a relationship, let alone lived with a woman. He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into or how one even dealt with a woman's crazy on a regular basis. Any knowledge he had was very limited, and more on the physical side of things.

Of course, he'd been with women; by his age, it was half expected of him to have been with at least one or more women. In his brother's book, it was supposed to be or more. So, on the nights he still walked to the beat of Merle's drum, he proved himself. There were times he was dragged back to some dingy apartment, and in the dark he'd feel flesh against flesh; which left a lingering scent of sweat and perfume. But, there was always a disconnect. It was passion fuelled by alcohol and the goading of his brother, nothing more. It wasn't as though it were to ever be like that with Beth...as always, their agreement was strictly business.

On paper, it seemed like a good idea. She'd have enough money by the time the engine came, and then she'd be home. She got paid a fair wage by Carol and wasn't stupidly giving it away anymore and cleaned up the house in return for the room; which he assumed she's use as much as Merle. As far as he could tell, she hardly ever left the damn diner.

Which, he guessed, was supposed to be a plus. They practically had opposite schedules, and once the engine came in he'd be working as hard as he could go get her on the road again, as promised. They would be like two passing ships in the night. Hell, aside from the cleanliness, he probably wouldn't even know she was there.

"Look, I don't know what in hell's name gave you this saviour complex..." Merle started in again before Daryl got a chance to respond. "But you need to get the fuck over it. That lady and her kid...Blondie...they ain't your problem."

God, Merle knew exactly how to poke a bear in all the right places. "You sure and shit wouldn't know. Being in and out of jail for most of your life. Leaching off the system instead of getting your shit together."

"Oh, this again?" Merle's face scrunched up and got all red as he clenched his fists. "You really wanna start this again, Darylina?"

Daryl knew Merle wouldn't actually hit him, they gotten their punches in on each other a long time ago. However, Merle's favourite thing was to cause a scene. He expected Merle would just bang up the desk a bit or throw a lamp across the room, but he really wasn't in the damn mood.

"Look." Daryl stood up, face to face with Merle. "I ain't gonna get arrested, she's eighteen. Not that it even matters because I ain't interested."

"Well, don't be expecting me to have money to get you out, when you get locked up. You're gonna be on your own then."

"I'm used to it." Daryl scoffed before he turned and walked away. He refused to turn back around even when he heard the first big crash of Merle's hissy fit.

If they were both being honest, they both knew exactly what gave Daryl his, so called, saviour complex; and it was the same thing that made Merle the drug abusing mess he was. It would always start and end with daddy dearest: Will Dixon. He was the one that gave the brothers their tempers; he was the one with the devil behind his eyes and a belt in his hands.

Every single memory Daryl had of their father was a carbon copy. There was nothing Will Dixon loved more than drinking and smoking and being a mean son of a bitch. He especially liked to hit things, and the boys' mother happened to be his favourite punching bag for a long time; that is, until Merle got big enough and got mouthy. Daryl avoided it all until Merle's first stent in juvie. But it couldn't be avoided forever; and neither could the tiny wails of pain from his mother's lips.

Maybe he was too hard on his brother. But, Merle didn't know the first thing about him until Daryl was well into his twenties. He'd faced a lot of the same stuff Daryl had with Will, but different wounds were always left on different people. Like the wound of his mothers ashy, utterly broken voice and the smell of smoke burning down the only thing he'd ever tried to call home. Or, the wound of only seeing your brother again after ten years at your old man's funeral - just so he could spit on his grave.

Everyone that was supposed to be there for him disappeared over and over again. His mother, she never really left, but she was never fully there; she had no light behind her black and blue eyes. She couldn't protect herself, let alone Daryl. Merle fought for a while, then worried about nothing but his next bag and avoiding their so called family when it got too much. It was always left to Daryl to feed the pain so that they didn't have to.

There was a lot of things Daryl would never understand in the world, but pain was one he'd always know the ins and outs to. He saw it in Carol and her daughter, Sophia, the moment they were dragged into town by her – now ex – husband. Then, when he actually opened his eyes, he saw it again in Beth, in almost every breath she breathed. How could he not help?

"Where the fuck are you going!?" Merle called after him, followed by another crash.

"To the damn diner and to the damn bar." Daryl finally turned around. "Where someone damn well isn't whining for no damn reason."

_Damn._


	19. Be Careful

After, what had been a week of disaster, Beth found herself less than optimistic about what was to come. However, that didn't seem to stop her from packing up all her bags and checking out of the motel that morning before work. She wasn't entirely sure when she'd lost her mind and thought it a good idea to suggest to Daryl that they live together - but she couldn't seem to keep her damn mouth shut; and now there she was dragging her bag towards the diner.

"You're not leaving us already?" Annabelle asked as Beth hauled her bags in through the back door.

Beth let out a sigh of exhaustion, wondering who on earth let her pack so much crap, before she replied. "Uh, nope...just a change of location."

"Well." Beth couldn't help but notice the sly smile on Annabelle's face, as her twang suddenly went off the charts. "Is that why you have yourself a gentleman suitor waiting all up at eating bar for you?"

"Wh-what?" Beth felt her cheeks flush.

A laugh escaped Annabelle's mouth as her voice went back to normal. "Dixon, Beth. Daryl Dixon is here."

Dammit. He was supposed to come around the back way later in the day. "Oh...uh it's not like that..."

"Wait." Annabelle stopped Beth's stuttering. "You mean I was right? You're shacking up with _DARYL DIXON_?!"

"NO, NO."

Beth could have died of embarrassment. She'd barely had a boyfriend, let alone lived with a man she wasn't related to. Her only experience within the realm of men came from her high school boyfriend, Jimmy. He was supposed to be a high school sweet heart, the only boy she ever held hands with, let alone kissed! But, when Hershel died, it was fair to say her home grown country dreams took a toll, and no matter how hard Jimmy tried, their sweet, innocent relationship burned out.

"So you aren't living with Dixon?" Annabelle raised her brow.

"Well, I am but...I'm not shacking up with him." Hell, she still didn't know if he was an axe murderer. "He's just doing me a favour."

Beth's eyes darted around, her conversation with Annabelle had draw quite the bit of attention. She didn't know when, but it looked like at least half the staff was gathered around her. Some giggling a whispering, some looking at her with a bit more concern.

"Well, honey." Another waitress, Clara, walked over to Beth and put her hand on her shoulder. "You better watch out, or he might be doing you more than one favour."

A chorus of laughter erupted as Clare knocked her hip against Beth's, followed by a little shimmy. If her cheeks could be any brighter, Beth guessed they would be. She wanted desperately to escape. But, she also couldn't help but want to ask if Daryl had a rap sheet of women.

"Daryl's nice enough." Beth muttered. "I'm sure it'll be okay...?"

"Beth has a crush!" Someone yelled out.

"Ooo!" Everyone joined again.

All Beth could do was shake her head. She should have escaped before she opened her big mouth again. But, thankfully, she wasn't going to be subjected to their torture for very much longer as Carol walked in.

"Last time I check, all your asses were clocked in." Carol placed her hands on her hips. "Now, remind be, am I running a diner or a gossip ring?"

With that, everybody cleared out, finding some way to make themselves busy. Or a least something that gave the illusion of it. Beth couldn't help but give Carol a thankful nod as she searched for her notepad.

When she found it Beth was about to head the front, before Carol stopped her. "Hold up"

"Yeah?" Beth paused.

"You should be careful." Carol warned.

Beth chewed nervously on the bottom of her lip. "Like I said, he's just doing me a favour."

"Yeah, Daryl's big on doing those." Carol shrugged. "But, that's not what I meant."

"What do you mean then?" Beth asked, very curious about the answer.

Carol smiled, but didn't tell Beth a damn thing. She simply jerked her head towards the front and said, "Get to work."

Beth wanted to, but she didn't push for an answer. Instead she did what she was told, and headed up to the front and behind the bar, where Daryl was waiting patiently. He didn't say anything, he just nodded at her as she offered him some coffee. She wondered how much giggling he'd heard coming from the back. Or if he'd heard his name dropped more than once.

"So." Beth started. "You're here early."

"Yeah." Daryl shrugged and took a long swig of coffee. "Merle was pissing me off, so plans changed."

Well, his brother did have a knack for pissing people off, so Beth didn't blame him. She'd just wished the town had better cellphone reception, so he could have given her a call; and she would have avoided that absolutely mortifying experience.

"I'm not off until late, I don't know if you wanna hang around for that long." Beth hoped he wouldn't, as she noticed an eyebrow waggle from Annabelle down the bar.

"Nah, I've got the bike." Daryl said. "I thought I'd take your shit back to the house with me then maybe go to Lori's tonight. That is if you remember the way back to the house."

For the most part, Beth thought she did. "Oh yeah, that's no problem. I'm going to be doing that walk a lot, so I might as well get used to it."

**. . .**

It was later that afternoon, as Beth was still manning the counter, that Annabelle came back up to her with a question. Or, rather it turned into a demand. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I don't know." Beth said. She imagined most of her evening would be spent sitting awkwardly in Daryl's house, wondering what she could and couldn't touch. That, and trying not to snoop. "Why?"

"Well, my ex has the kid tonight, and the some of the girls and I were gonna go out. So, this is your invite."

"Out?" Beth asked. There was a lot of different kinds of going outs.

Annabelle laughed. "Drinks and dancing, duh."

Of course, she should have known that's what she meant. It was nice of them to ask, however there was a few things standing in her way. Beth was a) underage b) had never gone out to anything but a house party and c) had her first drink just s few days ago, by accident. "Oh, um I think I'll pass."

"Oh come onnn! It's the weekend!" Annabelle whined. "You have to!"

Beth was taught she didn't _have_ to do anything; but it did feel kind of nice that almost perfect strangers wanted to hangout with her. They did tease her, but in a friendly way; and she was trying her best to make friends.

"Please, please, please?"

"Okay, okay." Beth laughed. She didn't have to drink.

"Yes! We'll go to my place after everyone's shifts are over. I'll have something that fits you I'm sure."

Annabelle walked away, wiggling her hips and humming as she went, and Beth couldn't help but feel a little excited about a girl's night. However, almost out of nowhere, Carol popped up, with her hands on her hips, again. Beth wasn't sure why, but it seemed a little cryptic.

"What?" Beth raised her brow.

Carol smiled and shook her head. "I warned you."


	20. In a Room Full of People

It was a fact that, only every now and then, there wasn't anyone but the misfits in the bar. Sometimes there was a passing bike gang Merle had invited, or maybe even a brave old clutch of townies - trying to reclaim what they thought was theirs. But, aside from those occasions, Lori's remained nearly empty. Everyone else was too scared of what might come of socializing with them. They were unsavory folk after all and it was a slightly satisfying feeling, to at least have that much control, in a town that hated most of them.

However, the feeling of control flipped a little bit that night.

Around 10 o'clock, already knee deep in booze and crude conversation, Daryl heard the crashing the door and the exhaustive high pitch of giggling. Along with all the others, he turned around and watched has half the staff from the diner walked in. Or rather...stumbled in. They were very, very tipsy; which meant that they were in no way scared of any of them, and they were going to have their fun.

Daryl couldn't help but let his eyes shift around the familiar crowd until they landed on exactly who he was looking for. In tow with all the rest of them, there was Beth; who was looking very sober and very uncomfortable. There was a lot that was probably contributing to her discomfort, but Daryl's main guess was the dress they'd gotten her in to; it was little, black and hugged every single curve almost perfectly. However, that didn't stop the blonde - who's locks were still in a tangled pony - from repeatedly tugging at the hem. As if that would make it any longer.

"What in the hell?" Jim exclaimed. Daryl whipped his head back towards the rest of him group. Surely they'd want to get rid of them. They didn't belong there, that was for sure.

The only problem with that was that he'd forgotten the power of short skirts and batting eyelashes (not to mention trying to get a group of drunk girls together was like trying to herd cats). Every single man at the table was staring, and Daryl was amazed they were stopping themselves from drooling. Lori, who seemed pleased as punch, was already mixing drinks as the girls took some seats far too close to them. For a split second Daryl made eye contact with Beth, before Annabelle blocked his view.

"Ladies." Lori greeted them with a smile as she walked over with a tray full of drinks. "First round is on me tonight."

The girls cheered loudly as she began to set fruity little pink shot glasses down. It wasn't much later that every single glass was empty — except for one — and they only grew louder. With enough booze in them, soon enough, Daryl knew they'd be social butterflies.

**. . .**

Beth knew the other girls were having much more fun than her, as they continued to drink. For a long time, she sat with her water glass and waited for hell to break loose. However, no one yelled or broke any glasses, and any bitchy comment was forgotten as they tossed back another shot. It certainly wasn't the drinking she'd become accustomed to in her lifetime. She didn't quite understand drinking as social matter; nor did she understand drinking as a social matter for adults.

She wasn't sure what exactly she was supposed to do. So, she followed along with the girls and tried to feed off their energy. She'd slipped into Annabelle's tiny dress to make the girls at least a little happy when she announced she wasn't going to drink. She was even going to let them glam her completely up, until they got to the point of drinking where their eyeliner looked like a toddler scribbles.

"You won't take one?" Annabelle asked earlier when Lori set down another full tray of pretty pink liquor. Beth just continued to just shake her head and sip at her nearly empty glass of water. She still laughed at the dirty jokes she didn't quite get, and cooed with the others as they teased Daryl's friends. But with every passing moment, her chest felt a little tighter.

She wasn't sure why, in a room full of people, she felt all that alone.

"Excuse me." Beth pushed herself up from her seat, with intentions of getting more water. Somehow, Lori had seemed to forget all about bringing her a refill. As she turned, she caught a quick reflection of herself in the big windows. She scanned her reflection. Beth wondered if she'd looked that miserable all night, and, if anyone had noticed. She hoped they didn't.

However, as soon as she found herself hoping and wondering, she made contact with another reflection. Daryl was looking directly at her. Although, she couldn't figure out by his expression whether he was concerned or just drunk. She decided to keep moving towards the bar and just flash a quick smile at her new roommate.

When Beth finally made it to the bar, she found herself standing and waiting for Lori, who had made another run to the tables – without her water of course. She hummed to herself while she waited and tapped on the counter rhythmically. She wished there was some music, then maybe she wouldn't be so distracted by her own self pity.

"Hey."

Beth turned around to a familiar voice. Daryl had gotten up from his table and walked over. She nodded. "Hi."

"What's up" Daryl sat on the closest bar stool and suddenly he swayed a little bit. Beth didn't know whether she should roll her eyes or laugh. She'd, obviously, never seen him like that before. Instead she just shrugged. "You don't look like you're having a whole lot of fun."

Looked like he was both concerned and drunk – but it's not like he was wrong. Beth began to chew on the inside of her cheek. "_If _I drink, what if I'm someone I don't like?" She asked. Or worse, what if it she was someone she did like?

"Does your mom drink?"

It had been Annette that made the house dry the first time her Herschel cleaned up his act. Beth was only little then but she could remember, on the nights her father was out of town or otherwise engaged, her mom would carefully sip at a small glasses of red wine. She used to collect them in the cellar before. That is, until she noticed them going missing when the bar had finally cut Herschel off.

Beth nodded.

"And? Is she a drunk like your daddy was?" Daryl asked.

Beth cringed at how blunt his question was, but she still answered. "No."

"So, just 'cause one person can't handle their booze in your house, don't mean you can't." Daryl shrugged and took a sip of a nearly empty glass, filled with a honey brown liquid.

Beth considered what he said for a moment. She'd never once seen her mother throw a tantrum after a glass or two or wine. Maggie and drank straight away when she went to college, and the only regretted the days she had a hangover. Shawn hadn't touched anything since Hershel died, but he used to love sneaking off to barn and field parties. Maybe Daryl had a good point. Or at least, maybe she should try it out for real herself before swearing it off for good.

"Alright." Beth nodded and started walking over to her table again. "I'll take one of those shots."

Daryl laughed. "You don't want one those. I'm pretty sure by now Lori is just filling them with water and grenadine."

"Then what?" Beth asked.

"Here, you might like this." Daryl handed her his drink and Beth stared at it blankly. "It's whiskey."

She smelt it first and an oaky aroma filled her nostrils. She really didn't mind the smell at all. It didn't smell sticky sweat, but it didn't burn her eyes with how strong the scent was. _Okay, might as well get it over with_. There was only a little bit left and Beth quickly tipped back the glass and swallowed, the alcohol still stung going down.

Beth set it back down in front of Daryl. She looked at him…and he looked slightly horrified. "What?"

"That…that's not how you drink whiskey."

"Then how?" Beth felt her cheeks go red, although she knew she shouldn't feel embarrassed for being an amateur.

"I'll show you." Daryl laughed and called out to Lori, who had some point had snuck back behind the bar. "Whiskey…straight. For Beth."

Lori smiled, realizing he was serious and grabbed a glass. "Top shelf. On the house."

"Oh." Beth exclaimed as she watched Lori reached up…as high as her belly would let her and grab hold of a dark, rich looking bottle. On the shelf, right beside the bottle, Beth noticed a dusky old CD player, the kind she had plugged in her room when she was a kid. "Does that thing work?"

**AN: Yes, I am still writing this story. I just may have forgotten to mention my hiatus, due to the fact I was in Europe for a couple months. My bad. **


	21. It Was The Night My Dad Died

For the most part, Daryl was sober. At least compared to Beth, who was waddling around the kitchen, looking for something to soak up the alcohol. His ears were still humming from the surprisingly aggressive sound the CD player produced. After about her third whiskey, Beth had insisted on it being turned up all the way. Come the fourth, he could see she wanted to dance.

All the other girls had gotten up, dancing along to the classic country singers they'd grown up on. However, Beth remained on the sidelines with him for quite some time, swaying to the music and carefully sipping at her drink. Daryl guessed the taste had been agreeable with her once she figured out how to savour it.

It was when everyone - including Lori, but excluding them - was stepping along to the beat that Annabelle dragged Beth onto the makeshift dance floor. Daryl had been expecting it that. But what he hadn't been expecting, as Beth was being whisked away, was her grappling onto his wrist and towing him along with them. He played along for a bit; knowing plenty of the line dances they started but never seemed to finish. All the the waitresses thought it was positively riveting. Daryl tried not having an opinion on it or them

The giggling seemed less shrill, but he noticed it every once in a while. When Beth would stray too far from him, they would maneuver her back toward him. Giggling. By that time of the night, Daryl had figured out what they were wanting (it would take someone dumb, deaf and blind to not figure it out). He just didn't know if Beth was in on it or not.

Daryl would definitely prefer if she wasn't. He would put his money on not, if only in hopes of their solely business relationship remaining uncomplicated. It wasn't like anything was going to happen either way.

However, Daryl couldn't believe some of the looks he got when he finally had to call it a night and take her home. There was no way of her making it back if he hadn't stumbled back with her. He never laid a hand in the girl even, yet somehow he knew he'd have to explain himself later on.

"That'll do." Beth muttered. She'd stopped wandering around the kitchen and Daryl cringed as he watched her sandwich peanut butter, mayo and bananas in between two half frozen toaster waffles. He realized that those were the only groceries in the house, but even in a squeeze he wouldn't bother scraping those together. He'd just go to the diner.

Although...dragging a drunk Beth into her place of employment at 3:00 am didn't seem like a stellar idea.

"That was fun!" Beth said, before sinking her teeth into her creation. Daryl saw her eye twitch with regret as the taste hit her, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to eat it.

Daryl raised his eyebrow. He would label the night interesting over fun. "Was it?"

Beth nodded. "I've never really been to a party."

"Really? Not one?" Daryl asked, even though he knew very well she probably hadn't. Which he still found odd.

She smiled for a moment, and Daryl expected a pleasant answer. However, Beth's stare suddenly became very blank and she began to fiddle with her hair. "Well. Yeah. Just one."

"And how was it?" Daryl crossed the kitchen and grabbed a glass to fill with water. He was thinking the blonde was feeling a little sick. When he turned back around, she was perched on the edge of the counter, feet dangling.

She took the glass and carefully wrapped her hands around it, but she didn't bother drinking it. She just continued to stare blankly at the floor and Daryl wondered if he should be worried about her projectile vomiting. However, it was only word vomit that came out when she opened her mouth.

"It was the night my dad died." She said flatly.

Obviously, Daryl wasn't sure how he was supposed to react. Was he supposed to ask what happened? Was he supposed to say sorry, yet again? Flee to his room and let her cry? Although, he didn't know if that was what she was going to do.

"My brother, Shawn, was at a high school field party." Beth continued, not waiting for his reaction and speaking slowly. "He's out of school, but still goes, so my friends and I didn't think it would be a problem if we crashed. It wasn't like we didn't know anyone...but..."

Beth's eyebrows creased, Daryl wondered how many times she'd relived the moment she described. He could see the tears finally building up, but she was trying her best not to release them.

"...there's a rivalry school couple towns over. Like us...they're really into football and a whole bunch of the team showed up and got really confrontational" Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "And I got scared."

"You weren't drinking?" Daryl couldn't help himself that time. He knew the answer, but her low, guilt riddled voice made his keeping silent unbearable.

"No," Beth shook her head. "But I didn't have my car...and I didn't know my dad was drinking again." She didn't need to continue explaining. What happened next was pretty self explanatory.

She called her dad. He didn't make it there.

Daryl took a step closer to her. Not sure what he was supposed to be doing exactly, but felt asthough he was supposed to be comforting her in some way. Telling her is wasn't her fault wasn't no to help. It may not have been, but the way she spoke, it was more like she was in confessional; not looking for reassurance or excuses. He also had figured out saying he was sorry, for the loss of a man he didn't know, wasn't the right thing to do either.

Beth looked up as he took one more step. Her lip quivered, in a way he had some how already become accustomed to. However, what happened next, he didn't expect. Slipping herself off the counter, Beth wrapped her arms around Daryl and embraced him. He could tell he was crying as his shirt dampened with ever breath she breathed.

For a moment, he stood there, completely taken off guard (something she seemed to be good at). His arms remained rigid at his sides and did not move until the first real sob escaped her. It was then he carefully wrapped his arms around her. She didn't react; she'd already chose to trust him, and had melted into him.

They stood there like that, for quite some time, and a million things raced through Daryl's mind. At first he only wished she'd stop crying. Then, he hoped he had a clean shirt to change into. But soon enough, his mind wandered to different things. He could feel her shoulder blades underneath his hands, and wondered how someone could be so small. Then, his mind flashed through every encounter he'd had with the blonde since she's pulled up in her smoking truck; which then made him wonder how someone could be so fragile, yet so fierce at the same time. It was all a wonder to him, what was going on in her mind and how she'd gotten there. It was all a mystery to him.

He couldn't say how much time had passed, until she finally peeled her face off his chest. She sniffed a couple times and looked up at him with red eyes, free of tears that now stained her cheeks. But the only thing Daryl could notice, was how close she was to his face.

Only inches away.

"Thank you," Beth said, as she sniffed one last time. "For letting me cry."

"No problem." Daryl awkwardly replied, unsure if he should release her or not. Or if she wanted to be released or not.

However, he never got the answer that night, as all the blood suddenly drained from Beth's face and her ghostly pale self took off the the bathroom. A few moments later, he could hear her go into a fit of coughing, as her sandwhich - and most of the alcohol she consumed - made a reappearance.


End file.
